#i enjoyed this one a lot more than yesterday's

[lubdubology]

Take My Love and Wear It

SYNOPSIS: Taking care of Charles has its own special challenges, but you didn’t expect the hardest one to be the man who hired you. Distant, gruff and rough around the edges, Logan still manages to worm his way under your skin. But you’ve worked your way under his, too. 

PAIRING: Old Man Logan x fem!reader

WC: 10.8k 

WARNINGS: smut 18+; mdni; angst; swearing; non-explicit mentions of wounds, blood and use of stitches; extreme physical pain; Charles is a lovable, meddling little shit; fluff sprinkled in for good measure; Logan in a tub (if I had a nickel for every time I bathed him, I’d have two nickels—which isn’t a lot, but its weird it happened twice, right); touch-starved Logan; handjobs; shower sex; fingering; dirty talk; oral (f receiving); sex with feelings; unprotected p in v; creampie

A/N: There’s something special about Old Man Logan, isn’t there? Old and grumpy and desperately in need of some love and affection. I know the Charles caregiver story has been done before, but I couldn’t get this idea out of my head. And then Charles starting talking in my head and well...it blossomed into this. As always, thank you to @joelsgoldrush for allowing me to send her snippets of this as I went along and offering her love, support and suggestions. I hope you enjoy this and any likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

You stare down at the remnants of yesterday’s cold and congealed dinner and sigh. Scraping the food into the trash, you resist the urge to pack everything you have and leave. 

One month. 

One month of helping Charles—making his meals, washing his clothes, giving him his meds, making sure he doesn’t hurt himself (or others), assisting with daily tasks—and Logan still regards you as a nuisance, like a gnat needing to be swatted away. 

At best, he ignores you, moving around the house as if you don’t exist. 

And at worst, he treats you with barely concealed contempt, his scowl deepening the lines of his face whenever he’s around you. As if you’re invading his space uninvited even though he’s the one that sought out help. 

You grip the edge of the sink, staring down into the porcelain basin as if it holds some hidden answers. Every day you’ve tried to break through walls Logan’s built around himself, held onto Charles’ promise that eventually he’ll soften, just give him time, but he only seems to have grown more hostile. And you’ve done nothing to incur his ire besides watching him come home every day battered and bruised, his very bones weary with exhaustion, and offering your assistance.

Part of you is angry—angry that you care so much when your main focus is supposed to be Charles. Angry that despite all his efforts to come across unapproachable and cold, Logan’s worked himself under your skin and takes a little piece of you with him whenever he leaves. 

Angry that somehow he’s stolen a piece of your heart. 

You hear shuffling behind you and turn to find Logan entering the kitchen, fingers fastening the last buttons on his dress shirt. “What?” he asks gruffly and for a moment you wonder if he can read your thoughts.

You straighten and meet his gaze head on, swallowing down your nervousness. “How much longer are we going to keep doing this, Logan?”

“Doing what?”

“This,” you say, gesturing between you. “You walking around here like I’m some stain upon your life, acting like I’m a problem when all I’ve ever done is try and help.” Your voice is steadier than you feel. “You asked for me to be here, Logan. It’s not like I barged in here without permission.”

Logan holds your gaze, his jaw tight, and for a moment you think he’s going to grab his keys and leave, head off into the night and drive until sunrise. His eyes soften for just a moment, something like regret crossing his features. 

“I know why you’re here. And I do…appreciate it,” he says, his words coming out low and rough. As if the words taste foreign in his mouth. 

“Wouldn’t kill you to show it,” you challenge.

You’re waiting for him to lash out and instead he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, I’m not good at this.”

“I’m not asking you to bow at my feet,” you say, hoping to ease some of the tension in the air. “Although, I wouldn’t be mad about it.” You think you see the briefest hint of a smile flicker across his face. “I just want us to be able to live in the same space. I’m here to help, Logan. Let me.”

“You have no idea how hard this life is.”

A rueful smile tugs at your lips. “I understand more than you think I do.”

Logan’s gaze sharpens, inquisitive as he searches your face, as if he’s trying to decipher the meaning behind your words. He rubs a hand across his face, scratching lightly as his beard. “I’ve gotta couple jobs tonight. Maybe more,” he finally says, changing the conversation. “Should be back before sunrise.”

You nod, his switch in topic not lost on you, but you don’t push him. “Alright,” you say softly. “Just—just take it easy, okay?”

He glances down at you, relief softening his gaze and you know a part of him is grateful you didn’t push further. 

Grabbing his keys, Logan heads towards the door but pauses just before he’s about to leave. He turns to look back over his shoulder. “Thanks,” he murmurs, the word awkward on his lips. 

You give him a small nod of encouragement as he slips out the door. He may not be ready to full open up, but you feel as if he extended a tiny olive branch tonight, cracked open the door just enough to let you peek in.

+++

Over the following weeks, Logan’s a little less avoidant. He doesn’t go out of his way to make conversation—you didn’t expect him to—but he at least as acknowledges your presence. Small nods and murmured goodbyes when he leaves and sleepy hellos when he returns. It’s not much, but you’ll take it. 

You’re cleaning the last of the dishes from dinner, Charles safely settled in front of the TV watching an old movie when Logan comes home. He’s earlier than you anticipated, but exhaustion lines his face nonetheless. You expect him to slip away quietly, but he pauses instead, lingering in the doorway. 

“Smells good,” he says softly, nodding towards the pan of half eaten lasagna still sitting on the counter. 

Surprised, you turn around to face him. You brush the hair from your face and say, “Sit. I’ll make you up some.” 

Logan hesitates and for a moment you think he’s about to decline, but then he nods, his shoulders dropping slightly as he sits down at the table. You fix him up a plate, setting it down in front of him with a bottle of beer as you slide into the chair across from him.  

He tucks quietly into the food, his fork scraping against his plate as he eats, pausing only to wash it down with a few swigs of beer. You watch him, a strange satisfaction tugging at you at the sight of him actually sitting down, enjoying a meal with you, even if it is in silence. 

“Long day?” you ask quietly, gesturing towards his bruised knuckles.

He flexes the fingers on his free hand before tucking them under the table. “Nothin’ I can’t handle,” he mutters, taking another bite of lasagna. “They’ll be gone in a day or two.”

You know not that long ago an injury like that wouldn’t have even marred his skin. Now, the simplest of wounds can take days to heal and it’s not the appearance of his skin that bothers you, but the newfound ache he experiences, the heaviness of constant pain.

You want to help him, ease his discomfort, like you know you could. But you know he’s not ready for that. Not yet.

“You’re good with Charles,” Logan says then, his gaze steady on his plate. “He seems calmer around you.”

Logan’s admission is so unexpected, you find yourself staring at him in disbelief. At your silence, his eyes flicker up to yours and you see more than simple acknowledgement in his expression. It’s subtle, but it’s there, a current of something more, something you’re not quite sure how to address.

“Thank you,” you murmur, your voice softer than you intended. “Charles—he means a lot to me.” You pause briefly, but something compels you to continue. “You both do.”

His gaze is focused on you and you don’t miss the flicker of surprise that breaks through his usual stoic expression. Clearing his throat, he looks down, pushing around the last bit of lasagna on his plate and then after a moment, he sets his fork down and leans back in his chair. “You mean a lot to him, too,” Logan finally says and you wonder if he’s talking about more than just Charles.

From the living room you hear Charles call for you, his voice soft but insistent. The moment between you still crackles as you stand from the table and as you begin to walk away, Logan reaches for your hand. His fingers are warm and rough against your skin and you’re barely able to suppress your shiver. 

“Thank you,” Logan says, his voice surprisingly soft. 

His grip against your skin is gentle, a stark contrast to all his roughness and you can feel the weight of his unspoken words curling around you. Charles calls again, his voice breaking through the moment, but Logan’s hand lingers just a beat longer before he lets go, fingers trailing along your skin. 

+++

“He likes you, you know.”

You glance up from shaving Charles’ face and find him staring at you, a mischievous glint in his eye. You give a soft hum. “Did he tell you that or did you read his mind?”

Charles scoffs and waves his hand dismissively. “What’s the difference, dear?” 

You chuckle, shaking your head as you rinse the razor. “With Logan I’m pretty sure there’s a big difference.”

“Bah, if Logan wanted to keep me out of his head, he would. Stubborn man.” He tsks softly to himself and shakes his head. “But, no my dear, he can be quite loud if you know how to listen.”

You raise an eyebrow, giving him a playful look. “Loud, huh? And what exactly is that brain of his telling you?”

Charles gives you a knowing smile. “Oh, just little things,” he says casually with a wave of his hand, but you can tell by the look on his face that he’s holding back. “He notices you—what you do for me, this place, for him. He may not realize it himself, but his thoughts linger on you more often than he’d like.”

A flicker of hope sparks in your chest and despite yourself, you feel a blush creeping into your cheeks. “Logan doesn’t strike me as the sentimental type.”

“Logan has spent so much of his life running,” Charles continues, his tone and expression growing more thoughtful. “The loss he’s experienced has led him to believe it’s better to be alone than form meaningful connections with people. But you’ve somehow become something of a home for him. And he doesn’t quite know what to make of that.”

Your heart skips a beat as you take in his words. The idea of being a home for Logan, a comfort, feels surreal, and yet...there’s a part of you that dares to hope what Charles is saying is true. That this isn’t some fictional truth his brain has concocted, a product of his disease riddled mind. 

“Home.” You repeat the word softly to yourself, testing the word on your own tongue as if it might shatter into pieces.

Charles nods, his hand reaching for yours, his gaze warm and knowing. “Yes, home. He feels it, deep down, in a way that’s unfamiliar and frightening for him.”

You glance down at your hand in Charles’ grasp, his touch grounding you as his words settle over you. 

“Logan’s spent so long hiding from himself,” Charles continues. “I think he’s convinced himself he doesn’t deserve that kind of peace.”

“And you think I can give him that peace?” you ask quietly, your eyes flicking back up to Charles’ face.

He smiles knowingly and gives your hand a squeeze. “You already have, dear.”

+++

“Want some help?”

You turn to find Logan standing in the entrance of the kitchen, hands tucked into his pockets.

It’s a rare night—one where Logan’s chosen to stay home, taking a night off from the almost endless driving he does. He’s dressed down, well worn jeans and a button-up flannel, and for once you actually think he looks comfortable.

You smile, surprised, but happy to see him there. “Sure, the company would be nice,” you reply as he comes to stand next to you. “Want to wash and dice the potatoes?”

Logan nods and rolls up his sleeves before reaching for the bowl of potatoes you had set aside earlier. You watch him for a moment as he settles into the task with a quiet focus. 

“Smells good,” he comments, gesturing towards the oven. “What’re we having?”

“Charles has been asking for beef tenderloin for weeks now, so I’m finally indulging him.” You finish trimming the last of the green beans and toss them into the bowl beside you. “You know, if you have any favorite meals you’d like me to make, you can tell me.”

Logan pauses and glances at you as he shuts off the tap. He clears his throat and says, “You already are.”

You blink in surprise as Logan’s words sink in and then the realization dawns on you. A soft smile spreads across your face as you piece together the extent of Charles’ meddling. You can’t find it in you to be annoyed and only feel a mix of amusement and fondness towards the old man as you chuckle softly to yourself.

“What’s so funny?” Logan asks, raising his eyebrow as he catches your expression.

“Oh, nothing,” you say, waving him off with a smile. 

Logan doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t pry as he picks up the knife and begins to deftly dice the potatoes. You watch him for a moment, captivated by the simple domesticity of the task. It’s in direct contrast to the man you’ve seen numerous times before, brooding and gruff, brimming with an almost untamed violence. 

It suits him, you think, this quieter version of himself.

You both finish the prep with relative ease. He helps you set the table as the rest of the food cooks, plates clinking softly as he sets them down. You busy yourself with finishing the green beans in a garlic butter as you wait for for the tenderloin to rest enough to carve into. 

“Ah, my dear, this smells wonderful,” Charles announces as he rolls into the kitchen, a warm smile on his face. “And you managed to pull Logan out of his room. What a treat.”

Logan snorts in response, giving Charles a pointed glare.

“I dare say it’s because the company has improved much as of late,” Charles says, his eyes twinkling in amusement as he glances between the both of you. “We all know he’s not out here for my benefit.”

You laugh as you bring the dishes to the table, noting the faintest of blushes creeping along Logan’s cheeks. “I’ll take that as a compliment, Charles.”

“As you should, dear. Your personality is quite sparkling.” He looks over towards Logan. “Isn’t it, Logan?”

Logan’s eyes land on you as he answers, “Yes. Yes, it is.”

Dinner begins quietly, the three of you settling into easy conversation as the first few bites are consumed. Both Charles and Logan hum in delight and a warmth blooms within you watching them both. This—this is the simplicity you’ve been craving with Logan.

As the meal continues, Charles launches into his usual repertoire of stories, those of the school and his students, his words brimming with nostalgia and pride as he talks. Logan sits back in his chair, arms crossed as he listens to him speak, shaking his head fondly at some of the memories.

“You know,” Charles begins, setting his fork down with an air of mischief, “I don’t think I ever told you how I met Logan, have I?”

Logan’s head snaps up. “Don’t, Chuck.”

But Charles is already smiling at you, ignoring Logan’s warning. “It’s a good story, dear. See, Logan had quite the career as an underground cage fighter.”

You lift your brows in surprise and you glance over at Logan, who’s thoroughly unamused by Charles’ choice of topic. “Cage fighting, huh?” you ask, unable to suppress your curiosity. 

Logan shifts uncomfortably in his seat, stabbing at his potatoes with a little more force than necessary. “It wasn’t a career,” he mutters. “Just a distraction. Way to get by.”

“Mmm, yes, perhaps,” Charles chuckles, clearly enjoying himself. “Regardless of the reason, it lead you to this exact moment. Didn’t it, Logan?”

Logan narrows his eyes at Charles, though the glare is only half-hearted. “You make it sound like all it all had some grand purpose.”

“Did it not?” Charles says gently, his tone shifting into something more serious. “Kept you alive, for one. But more than that, it brought you to us. To me.” He pauses for a moment, his eyes darting towards you. “To her.”

The words hang in the air and you glance over at Logan, whose expression softens just slightly. Without thinking, you reach across the table and give his forearm a gentle squeeze. His eyes meet yours, a flicker of a smile tugging at his lips.

Charles watches the exchange with quiet satisfaction before clearing his throat. “Well, I believe my work here is done,” he announces, wheeling himself back from he table. “Logan, fancy a game of chess? I haven’t made a player out of her yet.”

You laugh to yourself as Logan follows Charles into the living room. After clearing the kitchen from dinner and loading the last of the dishes into the dishwasher, you join them both in the living room. Tucking yourself into the couch, you read while the two of them play, the clinking of wooden chess pieces and the occasional dry quip from Charles filling the room.

From your spot on the couch, you glance up from your book every now and then to watch them. Logan’s brow furrows in concentration, while Charles’ face is more relaxed as they play. You smile to yourself, wondering how often they played like this in the past, when times were simpler.

You’re not sure when you fell asleep or how long you’ve been out, but you’re jostled awake as two large, warm arms wrap around you, holding you close as you’re lifted off the couch. Logan’s familiar scent—cigar smoke and pine—fill your nose and you blink up to find him walking you down the hall towards your room.

“Logan?” you mumble, voice thick with sleep. “D’you really cage fight?”

Logan chuckles softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. “I really did.”

“Did it hurt?”

“No.”

You blink slowly, your sleep-laden mind struggling to process his answer. “Not even a little?” Your voice is barely audible as you nestle closer into the warmth of his chest.

“Not in the way you think,” he answers, nudging open the door to your room with his foot.

You’re too drowsy to ask what he means and instead you hum softly, a noncommittal sound that Logan feels more than hears. Lowering you onto the bed, he moves with a gentleness you’ve never felt from him before. He brushes a strand of hair from your face and pulls the blanket over you before he turns to leave.

Your limbs are heavy, eyes barely open, but you call out softly—“Logan?”

He looks back towards you. “Yeah?”

“I’m glad Charles found you,” you murmur, closing your eyes.

Logan doesn’t answer, but you swear you feel the lightest of kisses against the top of your head before he leaves.

+++

It’s deep into the night when you hear the front door finally open. Your heart flutters against your ribs as you swing out of bed, unsure of what condition you’ll find him in. He was expected back two days ago, those extra hours away feeling like an unfathomable eternity. 

You find him sitting at the kitchen table, dress shirt hanging off one shoulder, the rest of his clothes rumpled and bloodied. A large gash oozes from his shoulder and you can’t stop the gasp that falls from your lips. 

Logan looks up at you, eyes narrowed and lined with exhaustion. “Don’t look at me like that,” he grunts, tugging off the rest of his shirt. 

“How else am I supposed to look at you?” you ask, taking a tentative step forward. “No phone call or text letting me know you’re not coming home and then you waltz in after midnight soaked in blood and covered in wounds.” Unshed tears burn in your eyes but you will yourself not to cry. 

“Didn’t ask you to care about me,” he bites back, but his tone is more weary than argumentative. 

“Oh, fuck you, Logan,” you snip, but your tone lacks venom.

He ignores you, pushing up from the chair with a heavy groan and limps over towards the cabinets. He shuffles through one of them, pulling out the makeshift sewing kit before sitting back down. You watch as he attempts to thread the needle, growing increasingly frustrated when he keeps missing. 

Shoving down your own frustration, you pull up a chair next to him and reach for the needle and thread. He pulls his hands away from you, turning in the chair to keep you away. You chase after his movements, finally grabbing his wrists and removing the supplies from his grasp.

“I don’t need your help,” he growls. 

You sigh, tired of this same argument, this same endless loop every time he comes home injured. “Goddamit, Logan, just let me help you.”

He drags his gaze up to yours, eyes tracing the lines of your face. His chest still heaves with heavy breaths, but you can see the anger bleed from him. He nods once, turning just enough so that you have access to his wound. Threading the needle, you place a gentle hand on his shoulder, ignoring the flinch he gives at your touch. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” you whisper. 

Logan huffs. “It’s a needle, darlin’. It’s not gonna feel nice.”

You try to ignore the flip your heart does at his use of the word darling. Despite his earlier gruffness and proclivity to push you away, Logan has softened to you over the last couple of months. Since that first dinner you shared, he’s joined you and Charles more often. Or if he comes home late, sought out the leftovers you’ve kept for him. He’s engaged in conversation, offering small pieces of himself, pieces that you’ve cradled close and nurtured. 

But there’s a tension between you, thick and heavy in the air, and you wonder if he feels it too. Feels that same undeniable pull you’ve always felt in his presence. You’d like to think so, otherwise you were doomed to love him silently, your feelings for him bound in the quiet of your mind.

“Just trust me,” you say. 

Slowly, you release your power, warmth spreading from your fingertips, easing his pain and discomfort as you begin to stitch him up. You try to ignore the heavy press of his gaze on your face and you can almost hear his unspoken thoughts, his words still stuck on his tongue.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, his shoulder relaxing as you continue to work.

You glance up at him then, finding his expression softer than you’ve seen it. “A mutant is a dangerous thing to be, Logan,” you answer, your voice soft. “Few people know what I can do. Those I trust.”

For a long moment, Logan just looks at you, his eyes unreadable. Then, a rough, tired sigh falls from his lips. “You coulda told me.”

You take a steadying breath, his words lingering in the space between you. “Maybe,” you say, your fingers brushing against his skin as you continue to stitch. “But you don’t make it easy to talk to you.”

Logan lets out a low huff. “No. I guess I don’t, do I?”

You finish the last stitch, securing the knot. Your fingers linger a touch long than necessary, the warmth of his skin a comfort you’re loathe to lose just yet. Slowly, you lift your gaze to his and you feel your heart beat solidly against your ribs as he looks back at you like he’s seeing something there he hadn’t allowed himself to before. 

Logan’s voice is low when he finally speaks. “Why you keep stickin’ around? Watchin’ me come home time after time covered in blood?”

“Because you deserve it.” The words tumble from your mouth before you can stop them. “Even if you don’t see that.”

He doesn’t respond, not right away, as he continues to watch you, his eyes tracing the lines of your face. Then he reaches up for you, fingers curling around your wrist, his skin warm and rough against yours. He holds you there as if grounding himself in your presence, his thumb drawing random patterns against your skin. The gesture is simple, but vulnerable and open in a way he rarely shows.

“I’m no good for you,” he murmurs, glancing down at where he’s touching you. “For anybody.”

“How ‘bout you let me be the judge of that?” you answer, your voice steady. “You’re more than you think you are.”

Logan clenches his jaw, a flicker of disbelief crossing his features, and you know deep below the surface he’s waging a war against himself, one he’s been fighting for far too long. His thumb stills on your wrist, his grip loosening slightly, but not letting go. 

Placing your hand over his, you give him a soft smile. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

+++

You’re surprised that he doesn’t argue, doesn’t try to brush you off or push you away as you gently nudge him towards the bathroom. He still gives you a dubious glance as he looks down at the tub, but you just ignore it, moving past him to run the tap.

You give him privacy to undress and get settled before you reenter the bathroom. The sight of him, as large as he his with his knees pulled up to his chest, makes you laugh, garnishing a terse look from him.

“You find this amusing?”

“Big man in a little tub? Yeah, I do,” you reply with a smile. “Just relax, Logan. This’ll be our secret.”

He huffs, but does seem to visibly relax, resting his arms over his knees. You kneel down in front of him, resting one hand gently against his forearm as your other reaches for the washcloth. You can feel the tension release from his muscles as your power floods through him and he breathes out a soft, “Oh,” as all the pain and discomfort is eased from his body.

You wonder how long it’s truly been since he’s felt like this, unburdened by the pain and suffering of his own body. Your heart aches for him as you slowly begin to wash him, rubbing soft circles over the scarred flesh of his back, rinsing away the blood dried to his skin. 

Even battered and marred as he is, you still find him beautiful—you always have. When you first started working with him all those months ago, you felt that pang of attraction when you met him, you’d have been blind not to. Ruggedly handsome, so strong and sure of himself. But you know that wasn’t all that drew you to him. Deep down, below all the tough, seemingly impenetrable exterior, you saw the man he truly was. Someone born of scars and rough edges, yet gentle. Someone who would selflessly put himself before others, even at his own expense. 

You let the cloth linger a moment longer against his skin before dipping it back into the water, watching as his blood rinses from the fabric. Squeezing the excess water out, you press it back against his collarbone, tracing the warm cloth along his neck and over his shoulders. Logan doesn’t move, his eyes half-closed, his expression relaxed in a way you’ve never seen before.

Something deep tugs at you as you realize how vulnerable he is right now, how trusting. He hides behind a gruff exterior, his true self guarded so carefully so that he doesn’t let people in, doesn’t open himself up to the hurt that trusting another person can bring. But maybe you’ve finally cracked through, broken down a little bit of that wall he surrounds himself with.

The warm water drips from his skin as you continue to wash him, letting your fingers trail gently along the newly cleaned lines of his arms. Logan shivers at your touch, but he doesn’t pull away. If anything, he seems to lean into it, his breathing deepening, muscles falling even more slack. 

“Feel nice?” you ask in a murmur, voice barely above a whisper.

He nods, finally glancing up at you through his half-lidded gaze. “’S very nice,” he replies, his voice rough.

“Good. You deserve it,” you say, repeating your sentiment from earlier.

You feel a flicker of warmth as his eyes meet yours and he simply nods. It takes everything in you to not smile too widely, to keep the moment gentle, but you take his acceptance to heart. 

Running the cloth down his ribs, you pause when you feel the misshapen knot of a bruise beneath your fingers and glancing down, you find a deep purple hue coloring his skin. Your eyes dart to his with worry, knowing that an injury like that will take him at least a week to heal, if not longer, in his weakened state. That with every breath he’ll feel the pain of his muscles pulling and the bruise spreading if you’re not touching him.

Dropping the washcloth in the water, you press your palm against his side and take in a deep breath to steady yourself. Then, a warmth spreads from your skin into his as you pull his injury from him, feeling his skin knit back together, feeling his abused muscles realign themselves under his skin. A dull, yet sharp ache, blooms along your ribs as you continue to pull his pain into yourself, erasing the injury from his body. With a final gasp, you draw back, your fingers now running along unmarred flesh knitted whole. 

Logan tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze as the back of his knuckles brush against your cheek. His eyes flicker to yours, holding your gaze, and for a moment, the room falls into a deep quiet.

That pull between you, the magnetic force that you’ve felt since the beginning, feels amplified now. You’re acutely aware of every inch of space between you—how small it is, how easy it would be to close it. How badly you want to close it. You swallow, feeling the tension coil in your belly as he continues to hold your gaze, unblinking, but more open and raw than he’s ever been before.

“What are you doing to me?” he asks.

Your breath catches in your throat at his question, voice rough and laced with something between wonder and disbelief. As if he can’t quite fathom what you’ve done for him—what you’ve given him so freely.

Logan’s eyes search yours, his fingers drifting from your cheek to trace along your jaw, lingering with a tenderness that belies the man he presents to the outside world. His gaze is steady and intimate, as if he’s trying to understand you in a way that goes beyond words. But you say nothing, your heart pounding too loudly in your ears to form a reply.

“You took it on yourself, my pain?”

You simply nod, distracted by the way Logan’s fingers continue to brush along the edge of your ear, tracing the lines of your face as if he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go. 

“Why?”

“Because I want to,” you whisper, unable to resist the pull of his hand against your skin, the warmth of his touch that you feel with every fiber of your being. “Because it’s the one thing I can do to help you.”

A beat of silence passes, the air thick and heavy with unspoken words. He exhales, shaky and deep, letting his hand slide to the back of your neck. The calloused pads of his fingers press gently against your skin, anchoring you in place and you can feel him pull you closer, his gaze dropping to your lips, his breath mingling with yours in the small, intimate space between you.

“I shouldn’t want this, want you,” he says, voice so low it’s almost a rumble. “But, fuck, I do.” 

His confession is raw, leaving him unguarded for the first time in a long time and before he can pull back, before he can throw those walls back up around himself, you close the gap, resting your forehead against his. You bring your hand up to touch his face, thumb brushing over his cheek as you breath him in, feeling the heat radiate between you. 

Logan’s hand slides further along your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he finally, gently, presses his lips to yours. His kiss isn’t demanding or rushed or filled with passion, but a lingering connection, the promise of something more. His lips are softer than you imagined, his touch more careful than you expected, as if he’s afraid he’ll break you. Slowly, his thumb traces circles against your cheek, steadying and soothing, pulling you closer. 

When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed. His breath is warm against your skin. “I don’t wanna push you away anymore,” he murmurs.

“Good because I don’t want you to.”

Logan lets out a breath, a hint of a smile finally softening his features. 

Reluctantly, you pull away and pick the washcloth up again, intent on finishing what you started. The water turns to rust as you wash him of blood and grime, making sure you reach each cut, each bruise, each scar on his body that makes up the map of who he is. 

You turn off the tap and hand him a towel, averting your eyes as he stands, wrapping the towel low across his hips. Logan reaches for you, tugging on the collar of your shirt to pull you closer. You stumble a bit as he pulls you in, surprised by the insistence in his grip. Logan’s eyes meet yours, an intensity behind his gaze that makes your breath catch.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, hand slipping along your jaw, his thumb pressing against your bottom lip. 

You’re drawn forward as Logan’s lips find yours again, but this time there’s an urgency behind the kiss, a desperation and need he’s no longer trying to hide. He holds your face gently in his hands as he deepens the kiss, his nose pressing against yours, his beard scraping against your skin and you find yourself melting against him.

This is what you’ve been craving since you met him. Despite it all—the rage simmering just below his surface, the sharpness of his exterior, the sometimes shocking callousness of his words—you always knew there was a tenderness underneath, a softness that even his tortured past couldn’t erase. 

Logan’s hands drift from your face, trailing down your neck and tracing along the curve of your spine as he presses you closer until there’s no space between you. The dampness of his skin bleeds into your shirt and you gasp into his mouth when he shifts his hips just enough and you feel heat of his erection against your thigh.

He pulls away from your mouth long enough to husk against your lips, “I’m old, not dead.” His teeth nip lightly at your bottom lip. “I’ve gotta beautiful woman lettin’ me kiss her, what did you expect?”

Your fingers trail along the edge of the towel slung low across this hips and a thrill runs through you as you feel his abdominal muscles flutter beneath your touch. You peer up at him, noting the flush of his skin, the black of his eyes as you tug the fabric just enough to loosen it. “How long has it been since someone has touched you, Logan?” you ask, your breath warm in the space between you.

Logan’s hands urge your hips closer, seeking friction as he starts to slowly rut against your thigh. You hear him swallow as your fingers dip below the fabric, brushing along the damp hair at the base of his cock. 

“F—fuck,” he groans, guttural and low, his head dropping down to your shoulder. “Since before you.”

The weight of Logan’s confession presses into you and in that moment you want to give him everything. Wrap him in all the love you can muster, show him something other than pain and suffering. 

You move your hand from the towel, allowing the fabric to fall from his waist and pool forgotten on the floor. Logan’s breath catches as your fingers wrap around him fully, the heat and weight of his cock pressing against your palm. 

A ragged groan escapes his throat. “Christ,” he mutters, voice thick and vibrating against your skin. “You don’t gotta—”

“I want to,” you interrupt, slowly and deliberately dragging your hand along his length, tracing the vein along the underside of his cock with your fingertips.

Logan’s hips jerk involuntarily, seeking friction, chasing your hand, and you oblige, tightening your grip just enough to elicit another groan from him. 

“What do you like?” The question lands in the sliver of space between you, your strokes still light, teasing.

“Firmer, more ah—” He breaks off as you tighten your grip on the upstroke. “Fuck, yes, like that, sweetheart.”

A shiver runs down your spine as his hands find your waist, fingers clutching at you almost hard enough to bruise. His breaths are growing uneven, each exhale warm against your neck as he fights to maintain some semblance of control.

“You keep that up,” he rasps, lips grazing your ear, “and I’m not gonna last long.”

His admission sends a rush of pride through you and you tilt your head back to look at him, your thumb brushing over the sensitive head of his cock, spreading the wetness there. Logan’s eyes meet yours, dark and heavy-lidded, his expression raw and unguarded. You like him like this, such a large, imposing man boiled down to pure wanton need. 

“I don’t mind,” you reply, keeping your movements steady, your strokes firm yet gentle. You focus on the subtle shifts in his breathing, the way his fingers grip you tighter each time you find the right rhythm. “Just wanna make you feel good, Logan.”

He leans forward, capturing your lips into a kiss that’s both rough and messy, teeth nipping at your lip as his tongue licks into your mouth. He groans are muffled against your mouth as his hips begin to thrust in time with your strokes, his movements growing more erratic as he chases after his release. 

“Can’t believe—ah, fuck—can’t believe how good you’re makin’ me feel,” he growls against your lips.

You smile into his mouth, your free hand brushing along his hipbone as your strokes quicken. His whole body tenses, the muscles in his shoulders and arms flexing, his abdominal muscles taut as he teeters on the edge.

“Let go, Logan,” you say. “I’ve got you.”

With a strangled groan, he comes, his release spilling over your hand, hot and thick. His body shudders against yours as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. You hold him close as he continues to thrust lazily into your grip, your own movements slowing as you guide him through the aftershocks. 

For a moment, neither of you speaks, then Logan lifts his head, his hazel eyes soft as they meet yours. “You walked into my life and I knew—I knew—you would ruin me.”

You smile to yourself, unable to stop the thought that floats into your head—he’s ruined you as well. 

+++

The text comes in at a little over one AM—hurt.

You jump out of bed, adrenaline rushing through your veins as you slip into one of his discarded flannels and head out into the night. Pacing the driveway, your heart jumps into your throat at every passing headlight, your thumbnail almost bitten down to the quick as you wait for him.

The minutes bleed into eternity until you finally see the limo turn down the long drive and it takes all your willpower to not run and meet him halfway. You’re bouncing on your heels as he finally comes to a stop, the driver’s side door opening with a faint groan of steel. 

Your heart stutters in your chest as he emerges from the car, blood soaking through his shirt, dark and spreading, as he steps towards you on shaky legs. Logan’s face is pale in the moonlight, his breathing uneven and shallow and white-hot dread shoots up your spine as you see his arm hanging limp, two of his claws unsheathed and dripping blood.

“Oh, fuck, fuck!” you gasp, rushing to his side.

Logan tries to wave you off, gritting his teeth as he grips the doorframe. “”M fine,” he grits, but the tremor in his voice betrays him. 

You reach for him, hands already attempting to steady him as his knees buckle and he collapses to the ground beneath him. “Careful. Claws,” he rasps as his left hand seeks purchase against your shoulder.

“I don’t fucking care about your claws, Logan,” you snap, although you both know your anger isn’t at him. You glance up at him and for once you think you actually see fear in his eyes. “What happened?”

“Gas. Robbery.” Each word punches out of his chest, the effort to speak sending tremors down his limbs. “Got ‘em.” He nods down towards his limp arm, claws still unsheathed, but slowly, so slowly starting to retract.

He winces as you help him peel off his coat to get to the shirt underneath. Your fingers shake as they trace the holes the bullets made—one in his shoulder, dangerously close to his lungs and the other just below his ribs. Hooking your fingers through the fabric, you rip it from his chest—the wounds are deep and his skin is hot and slick with sweat.

Panic claws at you and unshed tears burn in your eyes. You’ve seen Logan hurt before, but this—this was different. His breathing is painfully shallow, his usual gruffness and resilience absent. 

“Logan, you’re not healing,” you whisper, your voice shaking as your fingers stain with blood. Logan simply grunts, trying to wave you off, but lacking the strength. “I can’t…I can’t lose you. I can help.”

Logan’s eyes widen as he grabs for your wrist. “No. You’ll hurt yourself.”

“I don’t care!” you shout. “I love you, dammit, and I’m not just going to sit here and watch you die!”

Before he can protest, you press your palms over his wounds, the familiar warmth of your power surging through you as it spreads from your palms into his torn flesh.

The pain hits you like a freight train.

It’s sharp and relentless, searing through your shoulder and into the softness of your belly like molten fire. You gasp, biting back a scream as your body jerks instinctively away from the intensity, every cell in your body demanding you withdraw from the torture. 

But you don’t stop. You cling to him, tears streaming down your face as you channel your power into him, knitting his flesh back together. You can feel it, the way his muscles, bones and tissue rearrange themselves, months of healing taking place in mere moments. Every second feels like an eternity, but you refuse to let go.

You’re dimly aware of Logan yelling at you to stop, his own pain momentarily forgotten as he watches you endure his agony. 

Black dots dance in your vision as the last of his wounds come together, the spent bullets clinking to the gravel and you finally collapse against him, trembling, your breath coming in ragged gasps. The fire in your body begins to dull, fading to a cold, hollow ache as Logan wraps his arms around you, pulling you tight against his chest.

“Hey,” you mumble against him, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re okay now.”

“Me?” Logan’s voice is low, disbelieving as his hand cradles the back of your head as if you might shatter. “You’re the one—why the fuck would you do that? You could’ve—dammit, you—”

His words break off, his forehead dropping to yours as his breath shudders against your cheek. You can feel the tension radiating through him, warring with himself between his gratitude and anger, between his guilt and the love he’s too afraid to speak out loud.

“I told you why,” you answer, lifting your head to look up at him. 

Logan’s jaw clenches, his words caught in his throat, but his eyes say everything is voice won’t. You don’t need him to say it, not yet, but you can feel it, pressing just below the surface.

“C’mon, let’s get you inside.”

+++

There’s a reverence in which Logan washes you. 

Steam swirls around you as he works the thickly lathered loofah over your shoulders, down across your collarbones and down along the soft planes of your stomach. The water rinses away the faint metallic tang of blood, leaving behind the fresh scent of soap. He continues with a silent determination, as if the act of washing you can erase all the pain you’ve taken from him.

You know better than to convince him you’re fine, that the pain is always temporary, that it only lasts for a few minutes, sometimes just a bit longer. That the pain is something you’d endure for him again and again if he’d let you. 

His thumb brushes along the underside of your ribs, searching for a wound you know he won’t find. You reach for him, lacing your fingers together with his. He blinks up at you, hazel eyes holding far too much worry for such a stoic man.

“I’m not going to break, Logan,” you say softly.

A wordless noice escapes his throat as he removes himself from your grasp and continues to work, ditching the loofah in favor of his hands. His fingers are warm and calloused against your skin as they glide lower, down over the swell of your hips, over your thighs, down towards your knees. 

His touch morphs from one of care and comfort to one more sensual, simmering with unspoken tension as his fingers rest in the hollow behind your knee. You glance down at him, water droplets catching in his hair, running off the slope of his nose. 

Though you’ve seen him bare before, you can help but trace the lines of his body—the broadness of his shoulders, the well defined muscles of his chest, the sturdiness of his thighs, the scars that mar his skin. The sight of him stirs something deep within you and you feel your pulse thrum beneath your skin.

“Logan,” you murmur, your voice almost lost in the sound of the water.

He looks up at you then, eyes locking with yours. A storm swirls within them, a mix of guilt, affection and an intensity that takes your breath away. Leaning in, he presses the barest of kisses to the inside of your knee before he rises to his full height, pressing you close.

“D’you mean what you said before?” he asks, voice low.

I love you, dammit!

“Yes,” you answer without hesitation.

Logan exhales sharply, the tension he’s been holding coiled in his muscles loosening as he loops his arms around your waist. “I’m not very good with words,” he admits, his breath fanning across your damp skin. “Can I show you?”

There’s no mistaking the meaning behind his words and you can only nod, your voice catching in your throat. 

His lips find yours, mouth moving over yours slow and deliberate as if he’s savoring the taste of you. The first touch is a spark, the second a fire, and by the third, it’s an inferno that engulfs you both and leaves you breathless. Logan kisses you like you’re his anchor, his salvation, his touch desperate and full of everything he can’t yet put into words.

Your fingers slide into his hair, gripping the strands at the nape of his neck as you pull him closer, deepening the kiss. He groans against your mouth, the sound swallowed in the space between you. His tongue brushes against yours, teasing and exploring and you respond in kind, your nails scraping along his scalp.

Logan’s control is fraying. You can feel it in the way his teeth nip at your bottom lip, the way his hands press along the curve of your spine, the way he can’t seem to find enough of your skin to touch, to caress. A low growl rumbles through his chest as you slip a hand between your slick bodies, finding his cock, thick and heavy against your belly.

You give one slow drag of your palm along his length before he’s gripping your thighs and forcing your legs around his waist. His mouth leaves yours, trailing down to the curve of your jaw as he presses you against the wall, the coolness of the tile a direct contrast to the heat of your skin and you can’t stop the gasp that escapes your lips. 

Despite his age, the metal bones inside him slowly poisoning him and causing him human aches and pains, he’s still able to hold you up solidly with one arm as the other trails along your hip bone and dips down to where you’re warm and wet. 

“This all for me?” he asks in a murmur, sliding a finger along the seam of your cunt, just barely brushing against your clit. 

Your breath hitches and you grip his shoulders, nails pressing lightly into his skin as you nod. Logan’s eyes darken at your reaction, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Yes,” you finally manage to whisper. “Always for you.”

“Good,” he growls, leaning in to nip at the skin just below your ear. The deep rumble of his voice vibrates through you, his touch deliberate and almost torturously slow as he slides his fingers through your folds, spreading your slickness with a focused and unrelenting precision. 

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp, your head tilting back against the wall as he finally presses his thumb to your clit, circling it with just enough pressure to have your thighs trembling around his waist. 

“I got you,” he coos against your skin, his lips trailing from the pulse point in your neck to your collarbone. His teeth scrape along the curve of your shoulder, his free hand gripping your hip tighter to steady you as his fingers continue to tease and coax. “Lemme make you feel good.”

Every nerve ending is afire beneath him, every motion, every stroke of his fingers against your cunt leaving your mind reeling with pleasure. Your nails dig further into corded muscles of his shoulders, desperate for something to anchor yourself to. You pull back when you see the tiny, crescent shaped cuts marring his skin.

His eyes snap up to yours, sharp and molten. “No, do it,” he urges, fingers still moving. “Mark me with somethin’ pretty.”

“Fuck, Logan,” you gasp. 

“Say my name again,” he demands, his voice rough and commanding. There’s a quiet desperation in his tone, as if hearing it grounds him. Grounds him to this moment. To you. 

You can’t help but obey, whispering his name like a prayer, and he rewards you by slipping one long finger inside you, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure along your spine. Logan watches your face intently as if memorizing the way you react to his touch. When he adds a second finger and slowly begins to thrust his hand, you cling further to him, the heat inside you building to an almost unbearable intensity.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice low and reverent. “You’re so beautiful like this. So wet and warm and tight around me.”

His words barely register in your mind, too focused on the way his fingers curl and thrust inside you, finding that soft spot that makes your eyes roll back. He’s relentless now, his thumb pressing hard against your clit as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

“Logan, I’m so close,” you whine, your hips beginning to roll against his hand, seeking just a bit more friction, forcing his fingers deeper inside of you.

The tension coiling low in your belly finally snaps, your orgasm washing over you in waves that make your whole body shudder as you cry out his name. Logan holds you through it, his hand continuing to thrust against you as he draws out every ounce of pleasure from you, his own breathing ragged against your skin.

When you finally come down, Logan presses a kiss to your temple as he helps you unwrap your legs from his waist and carefully sets you down, keeping you close. 

You tilt your head to meet his gaze, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “I didn’t think you’d be into shower sex, old man,” you tease with a smile.

His laugh is low. “I can make exceptions. I need a bed to fuck you properly, though.” 

“Prove it,” you challenge.

+++

The heat and intensity between you doesn’t diminish as Logan helps you out of the shower and guides you down the hallway towards his bedroom. A shiver of anticipation crawls up your spine as you get closer, knowing that once you cross this line, there’s no going back, that he will have claimed you fully.

You scoot back onto the bed, watching as he approaches you with a fire in his gaze that doesn’t waver. He climbs onto the mattress, knee pressing down between yours as he cages you in from above, gently pinning you beneath him. 

Leaning down, his lips brush against yours, teasing. “Still wanna challenge me, sweetheart?” His voice is a low gravelly growl that sends a prickling rush of arousal down your limbs.

“Always,” you reply breathlessly, arching into his touch as his hands slide down your thighs, parting them with ease. 

His grin is sharp as he leans back to take you in fully and you acutely feel the weight of his gaze against your skin. He traces his calloused fingers over your damp skin, along the dips of your collarbones, under the swell of each breast, mapping the curve of your hips as if committing you to memory. Dipping his head, he leans down between your legs, his beard grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs and you can’t help but shudder at the sensation.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he says, almost to himself, his voice dripping with desire. He drags his lips higher, brushing along your damp cunt, his breath hot and tantalizing. “And all mine.”

The possessiveness in his tone has you clenching around nothing, heat pooling low in your belly and your fingers tangle in his hair, urging him closer. But he ignores your silent plea, almost deliberately testing your patience as he kisses you everywhere except where you want him most.

“Logan, please,” you gasp, the ache between your thighs almost painful.

“Patience,” he chides with a smirk, though his own resolve seems to be thinning. His hands grip your hips, pulling you closer before he flattens his palms against your thighs, opening you fully to him. Then, his tongue is on you, lapping at you with flat, broad strokes in a rhythm that quickly has you teetering on the edge.

Logan’s focus is unrelenting, his low growls of approval vibrating through you as he works you over with an enthusiasm that proves to you this is about more than just pleasure—he’s claiming you, showing you just how much you mean to him. Making you his. 

Your thighs tremble around him and his warm, rough hands hold you steady as he slips one, then two fingers deep inside of you. It’s embarrassing how quickly you come as he thrusts his fingers against that spot inside you, your second orgasm of the night crashing over you as his name falls from his lips in a breathless moan. 

Before you can properly catch your breath, Logan is moving from between your thighs, making his way back up your body, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses against your skin. His lips finally find yours in a kiss that’s messy and desperate and you can taste yourself on his tongue, sharp and bright, and the intimacy of it sends a thrill through you. 

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he groans against your lips, his voice wrecked as he grinds his hips against yours, his cock hard and insistent against your hip. “Could spend the rest of my life between between those thighs.”

“Why stop there?” you tease, your lips tugging into a smirk. “I thought you said you’d fuck me properly.”

Logan’s eyes darken, your challenge seeming to light something dark and primal in him. His grin is all teeth as he sits back on his heels, hands curling around your hips and pulling you down the bed like you weigh nothing until your hips are flush with his. “You gotta mouth on you, sweetheart. Should we see if you can still talk stuffed full of my cock?”

The weight of his cock brushes against your slick folds and you gasp at the sensation, your nerve endings exquisitely sensitive. Logan grips himself at the base, giving himself one languid stroke before running the thick head along your cunt, teasing you with shallow thrusts. Each slow, deliberate stroke of him sliding against you leaves you desperate and aching and you lift your hips in search of more.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. “So needy. Bet you’ll take me so well, huh?”

“Yes,” you breathe, nails digging into the muscles of his forearms. “Please.”

He presses into you then, the stretch of his cock making your jaw drop as he takes his time, sinking in inch by inch, filling you completely. Logan’s gaze is locked on yours, heavy and possessive as he watches every flicker of pleasure cross your face. 

“Fuck” he groans when he’s fully seated against your hips, his body trembling with the effort to stay still. “You feel…so fuckin’ tight. So damn perfect.”

Your hands clutch at his shoulders, anchoring yourself to him as he starts to move, pulling out torturously slow before thrusting back in harder, setting a rhythm that’s relentless and consuming. Each stroke of his hips has you crying out, your body arching into his as you meet him thrust for thrust.

“Takin’ me so well, sweetheart,” he growls, his fingers gripping the flesh of your hips hard enough to bruise as he continues to pound into you. “Like you were made for me.”

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixing in with your whimpered moans and Logans own ragged groans. He leans down, bracing himself on his forearms, the wiry hair on his chest teasing your nipples as his lips find your neck, biting and sucking marks into your skin that feel like promises.

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in deeper, your heels digging into his back as the coil inside you begins to tighten once more. He feels it too, the way you body clenches around him, and his pace falters slightly, his breaths coming faster.

“C’mon,” he rasps against the pulse point on your neck. “Wanna feel you come. Wanna make you fall apart.”

It doesn’t take much more—just a few more well-angled thrusts that hit that spot inside you and the tension finally snaps, your orgasm ripping through you with a force that leaves you trembling. Logan’s finesse is slipping, thrusts growing erratic as chases his own release.

“Come Logan,” you manage in a whisper. “Come for me.”

His hips stutter as he groans your name, spilling into you as his body tenses, lazily thrusting against you as he wrings out the last of his pleasure. He stays deep inside you, still for several moments before he shifts just enough to collapse against your side.

For a long moment, neither of you moves, the only sounds in the room being your heavy breathes and the pounding of your heart. Logan rests his head against your chest, heavy and sweat slick between your breasts. You brush at the strands of hair against his forehead before running your finger along the old scar on his cheek.

He lifts his head to look up at you, his gaze soft yet still simmering with hunger. “I do, you know,” he murmurs. His fingers brush idly against your skin. “Love you.”

A smile spreads across your face, warming blooming in your chest.

“I know.”

+++

You wake before he does, rolling over to find him prone, face buried in the pillow he hugs close to his chest. Sunlight filters in through the half slatted blinds, catching on the silver in his hair and beard and you can’t help but admire how handsome he looks, how at peace he is beside you. He’s relaxed in sleep for the first time since you came here. You’ve heard his growls and yelps of terror that echo in the night, seen the claw marks that pierce his sheets.

Your mind filters back to last night and how he looked as he came apart inside you, how desperate and needy he was for your touch upon his skin. The memory of his gasps and groans send a rush of warmth over your skin, making you dimly aware of the ache between your legs. Logan, so guarded, so unyielding and seemingly unbreakable, trembled as he came, his voice rough and wrecked as he called out your name. You shiver thinking about it.

You want to hear it again. But not now.

Resisting the urge to reach out and brush the hair from his forehead, you leave him undisturbed and slide out of bed. Padding into the kitchen, you find Charles sitting in his chair at the kitchen table, the newspaper spread out in front of him. He looks up at you with a warm smile as you start a pot of coffee, the machine humming to life. 

“Ah, I see,” he comments, a smirk tugging at his lips.

You glance over at Charles, his eyes back on the paper in front of him, but his smile still paints his face, sly and knowing. Heat creeps up your neck as you busy yourself with the coffee. “Are you reading my mind?” you ask, trying to force nonchalance into your tone.

Charles chuckles softly and taps at his temple. “I don’t have to. You’re projecting. And quite loudly, at that.”

You bite your lip as you fill your mug, leaning against the counter as the coffee warms your hands. You attempt to clear your mind, trying to think of anything mundane—the weather, baseball, laundry. Charles just shakes his head. “Relax, my dear. What the two of you do together as consenting adults is none of my business.”

“Oh, God,” you groan, your cheeks aflame. “That’s what I’m projecting?”

“Not that explicitly, no. You think more in feelings, rather than words. But they’re quite powerful emotions and rather hard to ignore when they’re radiating as strongly as yours are this morning.”

You bury your face in your hand, peeking at Charles through your fingers, which only seems to amuse him further. “You’re enjoying this far too much,” you mutter. 

“Perhaps,” Charles says with a laugh. “But you’re helping him. Healing him. And that, my dear, is worth everything.” 

Before you can respond, you hear the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the hall. Logan rounds the corner, hair tousled from sleep, his body still bare except for the pair of low slung sweatpants clinging to his hips. His eyes find yours first, softening in a way they rarely do for anyone else as he scratches at the back of his head and mumbles, “Mornin’.”

“Morning,” you reply with a smile, thankful for the distraction. You pour a second cup of coffee and offer it up to him. “Coffee?”

Logan grunts in affirmation, moving towards you, but instead of reaching for the mug, he loops an arm around your waist, pulling you against him. He buries his face in your neck, beard scraping against your skin as he sighs. “Didn’t like wakin’ up with you not there,” he breathes into your hair, his voice so low you almost don’t hear him.

“Sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“S’okay,” he says softly, pressing the lightest of kisses just under your ear. “Next time, wake me.”

Your heart stutters against your ribs at his open display of affection, the softness and warmth in which he holds you, and the promise behind his words. From over his shoulder you see Charles give you a slight nod, a bright smile on his face before he turns his attention back to the newspaper in front of him.

You think back to what Charles told you all those months ago, about how you were a home for Logan. Those words echo in your mind as you feel Logan’s steady weight against you. He’s so different now, soft and unguarded and in that moment you know.

You’re home, too.

[azzifuddslover]

off the court

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

themes: angst, pining, light jealousy

word count: 3.6k

tw: swearing, talks of alcohol use

a/n: very proud of myself for finishing this as quick as i did. ngl i was so giddy writing this chapter, it might be my favorite so far! please lemme know how y’all are liking it, enjoy! 🩷

CHAPTER FOUR

paige wakes up in her bed, in the same clothes as the night before. her pounding headache is evident, and her memory is foggy. she recalls drinking far too much, but there’s still a gap in her mind regarding the last few hours. how did she end up in her dorm?

she came to the conclusion that nika or aubrey had brought her back home. i mean, they did witness her drinking more than she should on a thursday night, so it’s a solid assumption.

paige reaches for her phone; there’s three missed calls from nika, two from aubrey, and one message from coach auriemma. fuck. she’s late for practice.

the memory of azzi rejecting her floods her mind, which makes paige contempt staying in her bed for the remainder of practice.

as paige scrambles to get dressed and head out, she’s physically off balanced, still dizzy from all the alcohol she had consumed. she grabs an advil and quickly shallows out before throwing her basketball bag on and rushing out the door.

heads turn to look at paige as she strides through the gym door, already out of breath.

nika is the first to pull paige aside; “girl, where were you? are you good?” she questions, concerned.

paige fakes a smile, “i’m good nik. i just overslept.”

“you sure you’re okay? you were drinking a lot yesterday.”

“really, i’m okay.”

nika gives paige a reassuring squeeze on her shoulders, “alright. if you say so.”

paige begins to walk to the lockers rooms, purposefully avoiding coach, who calls her over anyway.

“where were you?” he asks, clearly furious at paige’s absence.

“i’m sorry coach, i overslept.”

“you should know better, paige,” he says firmly, “everyone, run 10 laps.”

loud groans come from each of the players. coach auriemma’s eyes widen in challenge, “don’t like that? make it 20.”

paige’s lips curl; she receives dirty looks from her teammates, annoyance bouncing off them. she desperately wants to run away, go anywhere but here, yet she sets her bag down and runs with her team.

practice is the slowest it’s ever been for paige. and the pounding headache she continues to have doesn’t help one bit. she remains out of sync, constantly missing easy layups and wide open 3 pointers. all she wants is for this damn practice to end so she can sleep the rest of the day away.

she’s been intentionally avoiding azzi, not meeting her eyes, building distance between the two, not even passing her the ball, regardless if she was open or not.

but when azzi throws a soft glance at paige does she meet her eye contact. azzi wears a concerned, light expression on her face, with an ounce of sadness in her gaze.

paige shoots a glare at the younger girl as she remembers the events of yesterday. azzi and paige’s bodies flush together. their lips inches apart. azzi’s rejection. azzi running away from her.

paige is first the break eye contact, going back to shooting. or atleast, attempting to shoot.

once practice comes to an end, everyone is eager to leave. it’s been a long day, and they all needed rest.

as azzi was about to exit out the gym door, paige pulls her into the locker room, quickly and swiftly.

“jesus, paige-“

paige places her hand on azzi’s forearm, “look, azzi. about yesterday,” she begins.

azzi’s cheeks flush, “paige-“

“listen, i was drunk out of my mind. i didn’t realize what i was doing or who i was doing it with. i hope you’d know i would never do that sober.”

pain hits azzi like a brick. she knew paige would regret it in the morning.

although azzi had been the one to pull away, it didn’t mean she didn’t want to kiss paige- she did. she desperately did. she still does.

“i.. okay,” azzi whispers, eyes flicking to the floor.

paige pulls her hand away from azzi’s arm, while continuing to look at the brunette.

“alright then,” she nods, “we good here?”

azzi opens her mouth, then shuts it and nods as well.

paige flings her bag over her shoulder and casually moves for the door. azzi’s not far behind her, placing her bag on her own shoulders and leaving the locker room.

the two girls walk in opposite directions, not bothering to glance back. paige closes her eyes as regret strikes her hard. she had lied to azzi. she wanted to kiss her yesterday, still wants to, but what else could she do? azzi pulled away. she pulled away. she had to at least try to act like it was a mistake.

later that evening, paige is in bed, with her phone in her hand. ever since practice earlier in the day, she had been completely worn out, still suffering from a terrible headache.

paige scrolls on tiktok for while, before switching over to her favorite app, instagram. she views her teammates stories and likes a few posts. she sees caroline posted a photo dump, and as she scrolls through the photos, observing each one, she notices azzi in the last photo.

it was a picture of her and caroline in one of their dorm rooms, arms around each other, and azzi’s lips on carol’s cheek, in a friendly manner. it doesn’t settle the blinding jealousy paige feels, though. her fingers tighten in her hands, causing marks on her palms.

god, azzi looks so good in that photo. her hair was loose at her shoulders; she had on a bright pink hoodie paired with black leggings. paige never wished more to be someone else in this given moment.

paige clicks on caroline’s photo, causing azzi’s instagram page to pop up. she quickly hits it to reveal lots of posts from throughout the years.

she scrolls through all her posts, way back to 2015, and she’s reminded of USA basketball days. when azzi dmed her about accidentally liking an old photo of hers. red covers her cheeks in embarrassment.

she views azzi’s most recent photo dump; it was a few pictures of her playing basketball and some with their teammates.

with a slip of a finger, paige likes the photo. again.

“god fucking dammit!” paige exclaims, shifting up in a sitting position while nerves stir in her stomach.

she shuts her phone off and tosses it on the bed. paige covers her face with both hands, shaking it head at her stupidity.

her phone buzzes against her bed; paige already knows what it’s going to be. and as expected, it’s an instagram dm.

i’m getting deja vu, it read. paige’s lips tilt up, somewhat pleased that azzi still remembers their interaction from years prior.

would u believe me if i say it was another glitch? paige texts.

anxiously waiting for azzi’s respond, paige fiddles with her fingers, a nervous habit of hers.

i’d say these glitches are awfully convenient, aren’t they?

a soft giggle escapes the older girl’s lips, as she swiftly replies.

they most definitely are, she sends.

after a couple minutes, azzi finally replies: sooo watcha doing?

paige arches an eyebrow, surprised to find azzi continuing the conversation.

laying in bed, what about u? she types almost instantly.

yeah same, i’m so bored, azzi’s message read.

an idea arises in her mind: same. wanna maybe come over? dorka isn’t here rn.

minutes pass without a respond from azzi. was that too much? does azzi not want to hang out with her? does azzi still hate her?

and do what? azzi finally sent.

paige tilts her head- what would they do? she hadn’t thought that far ahead.

not really sure. we could watch a movie or something, whatever you want.

seconds later azzi responds. sounds good, i’ll be there in 5.

paige scurries off her bed, frantically trying to make her room look somewhat presentable for the younger girl. not that she wanted to make an impression, or anything.

she stuffs dirty clothes in her bed, throws away old water bottles and miscellaneous wrappers before lowering the lighting to appear slightly darker.

as she replaces her current hoodie for a cuter one, she hears a quiet knock at the door. her head whips in that direction while nerves erupt in her stomach.

she opens the door to reveal a smiling azzi. she has on a simple white sweatshirt, baggy black sweatpants, with a pair of nike slides.

“hey,” azzi says, looking into paige’s eyes.

“hi,” paige replies, holding eye contact, “come on in.”

paige moves to the side, allowing azzi to enter her dorm room, cautiously. azzi observes her room better than she previously had when they were first in here alone, taking in the posters, books, decorations. it was all so paige.

paige gently shuts the door before going to sit back on her bed.

“you played really well yesterday, you know,” paige compliments.

azzi’s smile grows, revealing her dimples that paige loves a little too much, “thank you. that means a lot.”

blush reaches paige’s face, “yeah, of course. but i’m sure you already knew that.”

azzi arches a brow, “what do you mean?”

“how coach compliments your game all the time. you’re the team’s princess, practically,” paige notes.

“well, i wouldn’t-“

“not that i can blame him, though. your skills are undeniable, az,” paige cuts her off, the tips of her lips lifting.

azzi brings a hand up to cover her wide grin at paige’s compliment and the use of her nickname.

“getting soft on me, bueckers?”

paige playfully rolls her eyes, “you wish.”

paige shifts over on the bed, making enough room for azzi to sit as well. “you can come sit, y’know.”

azzi is hesitant, but regardless, walks over to paige’s bed and sits alongside the older girl. their thighs brush against each other’s, sending butterflies to azzi’s stomach.

the two girls settle on a movie, the notebook, to watch for the evening.

“want something to drink?” paige offers.

“um, water is fine, thanks,” azzi answers.

paige simply nods and walks out the bedroom, out to the small kitchen her and dorka share. while she’s gone for a quick moment, azzi decides to get more comfortable, allowing herself to lay out in paige’s medium sized bed.

paige comes back to the room and brings herself to a halt. god. azzi laying on her bed was not one she’d imagine actually happening, but is damn grateful it is.

“thought i’d get more comfortable for the movie,” azzi says, like the answer is obvious.

“that makes sense,” paige replies, breathlessly. she sets down azzi’s requested water and her own on the bedside table, while she carefully crawls in bed next to azzi, laying out as well.

the two girls bodies’ are side by side, full on touching one another’s. and paige couldn’t be happier.

“y’know, you’re a really great player too, paige,” azzi whispers, a couple minutes into the romantic film.

“thank you,” paige begins, “i thought i’d never hear those words come out of your mouth.”

azzi snorts, “yeah, well, me either to be honest. i’ve always hated you.”

paige’s lips turn slightly downward, yet is unsurprised at azzi’s comment. she knew azzi had hated her, ever since USA basketball. she hated azzi, too. well, tried to hate her.

“i hated you, too,” paige lies right through her teeth.

azzi turns her body to face paige, “do you still hate me?”

paige scoffs, because how could she, or anyone for that matter, ever hate someone like azzi? paige shifts her body, facing the brunette’s; “i don’t know, my opinion on you changes everyday,” she teases.

azzi smiles- her brown eyes roam paige’s face, then drop to her pink lips. she knows better; paige literally said mere hours ago she would never kiss azzi sober.

“i’m kidding. i don’t. i could never hate you,” paige mutters, barely loud enough for azzi to hear.

just as azzi’s about to respond, exhaustion washes over her, causing her to drift to sleep. in paige’s dorm. in her bed.

paige’s eyelids flutter open as the remnants of sleep faded. the warmth of her bed surrounds her as she was the first to wake. she glances at the body in front of her, taken aback at the sight of the curly headed brunette. her breathing is steady and peaceful, lips slightly ajar. paige lays motionless for a moment, listening to the gentle rhythm of her own heart, before carefully, slowly reaching around to grip her phone.

paige’s eyes widen as she views the current time- 3:01 am in the morning. they had been asleep for several hours at this point, right alongside of each other.

paige looks over at dorka’s empty bed and is surprised not to see her. she figures she’s staying at one of their teammates room.

paige sets her phone back on the bedside table, takes a swig of water, before returning to her laying position in front of azzi, who remains asleep. she slowly reaches her hand out to graze azzi’s cheek, then twirl a loose curl around her finger, careful not to wake the younger girl.

minutes later, with paige continuing to stare at azzi, her eyelids finally open. she stretches slightly, lets out a faint yawn, before making eye contact with the blonde.

“hi,” azzi whispers, still dazed from her long rest.

paige gently smirks, “hey.”

“we fell asleep?”

“guess so. i don’t think i watched past 10 minutes of the movie,” paige laughs.

“same,” azzi shares the laughter.

the two girls shift into a sitting position, not caring enough to move when they touch one another.

“pass me my water?” azzi asks.

paige nods, grabbing azzi’s water bottle, as well as her own.

“thanks,” azzi says once paige hands it to her. she downs the entire bottle as paige silently watches in admiration.

“thirsty?” paige teases.

“you have no idea,” azzi replies, out of breath, “can i have some of yours?”

paige’s eyebrows rise, kind of surprised at the question. “yeah, ‘course.”

she passes her water off the azzi, who gratefully takes it. she takes several sips.

“what time is it?” azzi questions the older girl.

“3 am,” paige replies.

azzi turns her head at paige in surprise, “are you joking? we slept for that long?”

“i know right,” paige says, equally as shocked.

“i should probably get going then,” azzi says, beginning to get off the bed.

paige turns her head to azzi, “what? you don’t have to. it’s the middle of the night, azzi.”

“you want me to stay?”

paige looks away, flustered, “um, i didn’t say that. i’m just saying you’re allowed to stay if you want to. dorka’s probably at one of the girls’ room, so we have enough space.”

“alright then,” azzi nods, “do you have a shirt i can borrow? i hate sleeping in sweatshirts.”

“didn’t seem to have a problem with it earlier,” paige notes, “but yeah, i do.”

the blonde rises off her bed, scrambles in her messy closet, blocking it with her body to avoid azzi seeing the clutter. she pulls out an old USA basketball t-shirt that she figures azzi would be fine with.

“this good?” paige questions.

glancing at the shirt, azzi’s lips turn up, “that’s great. thanks, paige.”

she throws the shirt to azzi, who also pushes herself off the bed, easily catching it. paige exits the room, going to get more waters for the two of them. azzi lifts off her sweatshirt, tosses it to the ground when paige quickly returns.

paige nearly drops the bottles of water at the sight of azzi’s bare back. her eyes widen, her breath hitches. she wasn’t wearing a bra this entire time?

azzi pulls on the t-shirt paige kindly let her borrow, before turning around, noticing paige staring at her with her jaw dropped.

“i- i’m sorry…” paige stammers, shaking her head at herself.

azzi’s heart is basically beating out of her goddamn chest. she smiles gently, “you’re fine.”

paige finally moves from her spot at the door and places the bottles down. she stares at azzi, wondering if they’d continue to share the bed or if one of them would move to dorka’s.

azzi stares back at the older girl, thinking the same think but not voicing it.

eventually, paige breaks the silence. “i can sleep on dorka’s bed.” she walks over to the empty, made bed, slightly disappointed azzi isn’t protesting against it.

panic soon sets in for azzi, “what? no, it’s your bed, paige. you should sleep it in.”

“really, it’s fine, i don’t mind,” she lowers herself on the bed.

“paige, cmon. i’m not making you sleep in a different bed,” azzi argues.

“okay then..” paige says, confusion setting in.

azzi plops back onto paige’s bed, moving over so there’s enough room for the older girl, “just come back over here.”

paige’s cheeks blush against her will, a smirk settling on her face. “if you insist.”

the two girls get comfortable on the bed, legs touching ever so slightly.

“night,” azzi whispers.

“night, az.”

azzi, this time, is first to wake. paige is much, much closer to her than she had been when they first fell asleep. azzi suddenly feels an arm wrapped tightly around her waist that has her pulled practically flushed against paige’s body. paige’s hand is underneath azzi’s shirt, on her bare back. azzi allows herself to admire a sleeping paige for a quick moment.

she checks her phone- 8:30 in the morning. azzi carefully takes paige’s arm and places it gently on the bed, then crawls out of the warm bed, trying her best not to disturb the blonde.

with her phone in her hand, she glances back at paige, and exits the room.

later that day, in the afternoon, the entire uconn women’s basketball team is scattered in paige and dorka’s room. there’s players on both beds, on the small couch, on the floor. azzi is planted against paige’s bed, while paige is seated on the couch.

the team had been chatting about a variety of things when kk comes up with an idea for the girls.

“guys, we should play spin the bottle!” kk announces, loudly.

“what are we, 10?” paige scoffs, rolling her eyes at the game idea.

“cmon, p, don’t be blame. plus, i’m so bored,” kk whines.

“i’m down,” nika agrees.

“same, why not,” jana says.

soon, each player agrees to a game of spin the bottle, even though paige is convinced it’s a stupid idea. they all sit in a circle, tight enough so they’re all touching, due to the size of the dorm. kk places a bottle in the middle of the circle and gives it a gentle spin.

it lands on aubrey and lou. nika lets out a soft chuckle, causing aubrey to laugh as well.

“pucker up, lou lou,” aubrey smiles before swiftly placing a kiss on lou’s lips, not lasting more than 2 seconds.

the bottle is once again spun, fast this time. it lands on nika and jana, who smirk and touch lips.

paige shifts in her seating, silently wondering if the bottle would ever land on her. she doubts it.

kk gives the bottle a good spin, making it travel faster than before. paige anxiously watches the bottle, fidgeting with her fingers as nerves take over her body.

the first spin lands on azzi. oh jesus. whoever this next spin lands on should consider themselves lucky, paige thinks. she then takes in account that azzi still is wearing her USA basketball shirt.

it’s azzi’s turn for nerves to overpower her. her heart quickens, palms begin to sweat in anticipation for whoever she’s about to kiss.

the next spin seems to last an eternity. paige swears it goes in slow motion. but eventually, it points directly at the blonde.

azzi’s eyes practically bulge out of socket. her jaw drops as she locks eyes with paige, who looks equally as surprised.

ignoring the o’s and ah’s she receives from her teammates, paige makes her way over to the curly headed brunette, careful not to show how nervous she is to kiss azzi.

the older girl settles comfortably in front of azzi. her gaze roams azzi’s flushed face, which causes paige to smirk knowingly.

there is a heavy silence, the air between them electric, both eager and tentative. slowly, paige places her hand on azzi’s hot cheek, and leans in. when their lips finally brush, it was gentle- hesitant at first- but the warmth between them quickly grew, the kiss only deepening as both hearts speed up. a soft, trembling sigh escapes azzi’s mouth while paige’s deepens the kiss even further. she slips her tongue into the younger girl’s mouth, swirling and testing the waters.

after what feels like forever but not nearly enough, paige pulls away, disconnecting their lips. she removes her hand off azzi’s waist- which uncontrollably moved there from her cheek- and crawls back to her original spot, besides dorka and jana.

she glances back at azzi, who’s lips are pluffy and a darker shade of pink, while her cheeks are a softer pink.

the room continued to buzz with energy, the laughter of her teammates echoing from the game, but all paige could hear is the steady of her own heart. her pulse quickens when azzi meets her gaze, heat and want in her lingering eyes. for a moment, the noise of their friends fade away, leaving only the weight of a shared silence between the two.

the blonde didn’t take her focus off azzi. she didn’t smile, didn’t do or say anything. just watched.

azzi clears her throat, trying to act as casual as possible, but her hands betray her, nervously fiddling in her lap. she quickly flicks her eyes to the ground, but not before noticing paige’s lips twitch softly, as she was fighting off a grin.

then, without a word, paige turns her attention back to the silly game her teammates were continuing to play, yet azzi couldn’t shake the warmth in her chest or the growing electricity still intensely present between them.

[gem-de-lune]

Daily Vibe Check 11/27

Riize (Collective)

The Fool + King of Chalices

This is a new and positive energy they are all kind of taking on as a collective right now. Rather than taking on a serious or harsh approach to their situation, they are actively choosing to be more mellow and carefree and simply receptive. This comes after a lot of interaction with OT7- I really think this has made a difference in their outlooks as a group. We talked about mending relationships yesterday, and I think this energy speaks about "moving together." I think there is a lot of focus on their interpersonal relationships as of late, and it is a positive development.

Eunseok

King of Swords + 6 of Swords + 7 of Wands

In terms of seriousness, he is the most serious right now, and that's saying a lot bc it's not even that serious. The fact that two of these cards thar have these charts pop up, reiterates to me personally that Eunseok is one of the 2 members whose opinions are listened to the most by upper management because they can communicate effectively. Particularly, he seems to be very analytical, especially at this time. If I had to be specific, I think he is actively monitoring fan reactions and the fandom in general to see how things are shifting. He seemed to be very interested in this even a month ago. He is doing well by the looks of it because he seems to have "lifted a veil" of sorts. Like he is just now being more exposed to lightheartedness and love amongst the fans. I did think this was because of his exposure to OT7 they got recently and continue to get lately.

How he feels about OT7 protests:

8 of Pentacles + 7 of Swords + Judgement

In general, he is really happy that there are actually fans working hard to create a reality where the truth will prevail. He hopes we can be smart here. But I also think he is actively maybe translating things? I get the vibe that he knows very very well that we are hiding certain developments and plans? So either he is translating our posts, or he is watching OT6 talk about how we are hiding our plans. One of those. But generally, yeah, he feels a bit giddy and inspired. You know how Seunghan felt like Briize were the king and he should bow? It's a similar feeling but less severe lmao.

Wonbin Shenanagins:

Queen of Wands + Knight of Pentacles + 8 of Swords

Wonbin is kind of crazyyy lol. I got a lot of asks, wondering if him liking and responding to OT7 posts was intentional or not. It was intentional? Lol. He is being a little bit reckless, leading me to believe he has been scolded or restricted in his actions concerning this before- maybe warned against it. He is playing innocent, though. He wants Briize to keep their motivation, so he enjoys "planting" these little seeds to fuel us (ugh, our OT7 leader 😌💪). When I asked about his intentions behind this further- the 8 of Swords popped up. Perhaps he seeks to harm or to create tears and rifts in the arguments that OT6 love to sow about the members and how they feel. Out of all Members, Wonbin has the most distain for OT6 fans, I believe. The others are still on that line of understanding and acceptance towards them. Wonbin is not crossing it and is teetering well into the dark side lolol.

Award Shows/As the end of the year approaches:

10 of Chalices + 6 of Pentacles + The Devil

There were a few discussion asks in my box about the upcoming award ceremonies, and if anything would occur during these. I think this may be a win? Lmao lowkey? I think some sort of contraint placed on the members will be released (to a DEGREE not fully) and they will be able to express a little bit more in some speeches than we may have expected- and it will reflect their true opinions. I think it will anger some.

How OT7 Briize will view these events:

8 of Wands + 5 of Swords + 10 of Wands

Okay, so YES this will UPSET the other team- which we know because of the 5 of Swords. It will feel like this are MOVING for us, and there will be sore losers all around. With the 10 of wands, there may be more motivation to do more and more for a period of time, to further efforts even more even though it seems overbearing because we will probably start to see more than ever, the real effects of our efforts and the fact that they make a big difference and will continue to do so if we continue to fight. So, there will be some validation for our actions. We will feel- or rather we will WANT to feel good abt our accomplishments later.

Final Notes:

Not doing a full bottom of the deck read, but it was Knight of Chalices! With this in mind, I want you all to remind yourself to relax. Our biggest asset, unlike other fandoms, isn't necessarily our numbers. It is our dedication and resillience- the will to never give up. That doesn't mean we have to be serious all the time. It is a matter of commitment. Have fun with this. Troll. Be a menace. Laugh. Relax. We can still have fun while doing our thing and making our demands known. Riize is doing this too as we speak. Just don't forget that whatever you feel- hopelessness, sadness, desperation, etc... you are not alone in thinking that. Talk to others, bond, lift each other up, and that will only further solidify the strength of this movement. The outcome is looking positive!

[peachhcs]

https://www.tumblr.com/peachhcs/768260981215330304/httpswwwtumblrcompeachhcs767959888939941888

okay so freaking cute.

i can’t wait to see them in san jose.

totally see them having really soft sex because of her shoulder and will just being so gentle.

a weekend in san jose

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

part 11!! WOW guys i made this into a lovely 6.3k fic filled with lots of fuff and a bit of smut! i got super carried away and because everyone seems to like longer fics sometimes, i put this all into one part woohoo (can also be read as a stand alone if u really want)

i made note in big red letters where the smut starts and ends so if you don't wanna read it, you can just skip past it. :)

if you do read the smut though warnings are: hickeys, making out, fingering, oral (f receiving), protected p in v, swearing, i think that's it? just read at ur own risk and skip if u don't wanna read! :) but anyways, enjoy this long fic!!!!!!!!! this may be the last part of this side plot unless there's more you guys think of and if you do pls send my way and i will happily write it

au masterlist

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10

samy was in san jose the next weekend. she came out of her gate in search of will who told her he'd meet her there, so her eyes scanned the crowd for his familiar blonde curls. there were so many people pushing and shoving their way through, she forgot how busy san jose's airport was compared to ann arbor.

finally, the brunette found will's taller figure near the edge of the crowd. she quickly grinned, raising her hand so he'd see her before navigating herself towards him. she came out on the other side of the crowd embracing her boyfriend in a tight hold. he held her tightly, spinning the two around a bit.

"hi, so good to see you," the girl mumbled into his shoulder.

"glad you made it safely. it's good to see you too," will cheered, pulling back so he could see her face. his hands caressed her cheek, quickly pecking her lips and then pulling her back towards the exit.

"mack's waiting with the car in kind of an illegal parking spot, so we gotta hurry back," will explained his fast pace while samy just giggled. typical.

"don't tell me you parked in the pick up lane," she raised her eyebrow. when will didn't say anything the girl hit his arm and rolled her eyes.

"what? i wasn't gonna spend an hour fighting with someone in the parking garage," he defended himself because why would he waste his time in there when he could sort of illegally park in the pick up line for ten minutes?

will navigated them through the busy airport in five minutes, way faster than samy would have gotten herself out. the warm san jose air hit her skin like a refreshing drink after spending so much time in the cold back in michigan. she giggled as the blonde pulled her towards his fancy bronco—one of the first things will spent his new money on.

"wow, i haven't seen the car in person yet," she admired how clean and sleek it looked compared to her parent's old ford suv she drove around back home. (and it was actually jack's before it was hers)

"nice, isn't it?" will grinned proudly as he helped samy get her suitcase into the back.

"hey samy!" mack exclaimed from where he moved himself to the backseat. the only rule in will's car was that samy got passenger seat anytime she was around.

"hey mack!" the girl exclaimed and ran around to quickly hug in before getting into the front.

will was in a moment later and the three of them rolled out before an officer gave them a ticket for parking in the pick up line.

"it's good to see you, mack. i haven't seen you since the draft," samy grinned.

"you too. i'm excited you're visiting this weekend. smitty was yapping in my ear yesterday about all the plans he had for you guys," the younger brunette said making will flush in slight embarassment. samy found it endearing though.

"ooh, i can't wait. i haven't been up since we moved him in at the beginning of august," the girl poked her boyfriend's arm to which he just grabbed her hand to hold it.

macklin smirked from the backseat, remembering the conversation he poked at will about a month ago about his driving. it all made sense to the shark player now.

"well when you and will aren't off doing whatever, sennecke and i wanna catch up with you. he said he'd drive up to hang out like tomorrow or something," macklin said.

"wait, yeah. i wanna see him beck. i told him i'd see him whenever i was here," samy grinned. beckett and mack were the two "freshmen" she adopted and basically took under her wing at the draft this past summer and with such busy schedules, she hadn't been able to see them since.

"not to put a dent in your plans or anything smitty," macklin eyed his friend in the front seat. will just shrugged.

"all good, we have like three-ish days to do stuff. i haven't seen much of beckett either so it'd be cool to see him," will nodded in agreement and the other two smiled.

will dropped macklin back off at his place and then went back around the block to the house. he helped samy with her luggage again and led the way into the marleau household.

"just a fair warning, pat's youngest kids will go a little crazy at first because..you know..you're quinn, jack, and luke's little sister," will chuckled a bit before he opened the door. samy flushed, a smile gracing her lips.

"dont worry, i can handle it," and with that, will carefully opened the front door.

the commotion could be heard loud and clear. it was definitely a boy house with the tv on loud and voices already arguing about something as the couple stepped in.

"hey guys, will's back with samy!" patrick saw them first where he got up from the couch to greet them.

christina came out from the kitchen with the youngest boys behind her. the older ones got from the couch too. "hi samy! it's so good to finally meet you. we've heard a bunch about you," chrisitina grinned, going in for a hug.

"it's so good to finally meet you guys too," she hugged her back and then went to give a quick hug to patrick.

"welcome to our home for the weekend! these are our boys—landon, brody, jagger, and caleb," patrick introduced the boys who shyly waved at the girl.

"you're quinn's sister!" caleb exclaimed making the others laugh. samy smiled, bending down so she was eye level with him.

"i am. maybe i can score you a signed puck or something," the girl laughed and she loved the way caleb's face lit up at that idea.

"why don't you guys get settled in and then i have some lunch whenever you're hungry," christina smiled and samy thanked them for letting her stay before following will upstairs.

she admired how will already hung up some of the things that were on his walls at boston. she especially liked the framed pictures of her and him on his nightstand.

"those boys are adorable," she turned to him as he set down her suitcase and shut the door.

"they're pretty funny. maybe they can convince you to play some driveway hockey with them," will chuckled.

"oh, 100%. they seem so nice, i'm glad you've found a home here with them," samy sat down on the bed to just take it all in and catch her breath after the plane ride and meeting everyone.

will quickly joined her. "it's..it's the life alright. i'm grateful for how kind they've been to me."

"i mean, duh. who wouldn't wanna be kind to you," the soccer player laughed as she reached over to pinch her boyfriend's cheek. he took that as his opportunity to take ahold of her hand and bring her in for a better kiss than their peck at the airport.

this one was a lot slower and filled with more love. samy curled her good arm around his neck where she toyed with the little curls on the back of his neck. her hand brushed against his chest and will curled his own fingers around her own.

"i love you. i'm glad you're here. this is gonna be really fun," the boy hummed when they pulled apart.

"i love you too, handsome. can't wait to beat your ass in driveway hockey later," she teased and will rolled his eyes.

"alright. don't gotta go that far."

"you're just mad because you know i will, even with a hurt shoulder," the brunette smirked. luckily, she was able to graduate from a bulky sling to a shoulder brace that still kept everything in place, but she had a bit more mobility than before.

plus, even though it was her right shoulder, she shot with her opposite arm and hand in hockey so she'd have no problem taking down will and the marleau kids.

later that afternoon, samy did exactly that. all the marleau boys were out in the driveway with will and samy as they teamed themselves off to play against one another. samy got brody and landon, the older ones, for the first round and she already knew they were gonna kick will's butt.

she ran right past will's feet and passed the ball they were playing with towards landon. he swiped past his brothers to shoot it right into the back of the neck. samy and brody cheered while will groaned.

"you have a hurt shoulder, i'm not gonna go hard on you," the blonde complained and made an weak excuse for the loss.

"come on, babe. i'm not broken. i can still play. you don't gotta go easy on me," samy said.

"if you say that, i am gonna go hard on you and then end up hurting you more, so i'm good," will said as the six of them sit themselves back up.

"will hurting his girlfriend? ooh.." jagger said making everyone but will laugh.

"someone record it!" samy added into the teasing which will just shook his head to.

they played for the rest of the night until christina called them in for dinner. samy got to know the marleau's more while she told them about her life at michigan and the legacy her and her brothers were leaving on the field and on the ice.

once they finsihed, will and samy hung out downstairs for a bit before calling it a night knowing there was a lot to do tomorrow with will's extensive itinerary.

"i love those kids," samy commented from the bathroom as she brushed her teeth.

"they're really great. they're always bugging me to play with them," will smiled.

"that's so cute. they probably look up to you so much in addition to their dad. i hope you cherish that," the brunette hummed.

"oh, i do, don't worry. it keeps me motivated when they watch the games and see how i do."

the youngest hughes shut the light off and eagerly crawled into will's bed. this was her favorite part about getting to visit and sleeping in the same bed together. will was always so warm, so it was especially nice when they were in michigan or boston and it was below 30 degrees. even now it added that extra comfort as the girl snuggled in close to her boyfriend and wrapped her arms around his torso. the sleep came faster than it had all semester and she was out in minutes with will not too fard behind her.

—

will picked macklin up again the next day as they headed downtown to the place they would meet beckett for lunch. the younger brunette was pretty chipper as he climbed into the back, probably because it wasn't 7 in the morning for once when will picked him up.

"how was your night?" macklin wondered, definitely smirking.

"it was great, how was yours?" samy asked.

"mine was great, too. did you guys—"

"macklin" will warned before the boy finished his sentence. samy just giggled.

"i was gonna ask if the boys dragged you out to play driveway hockey," macklin kept talking even though they all knew that wasn't his original question.

"they did. i beat will in an overwhelming 6-2," samy proudly said.

"6-2? jeez, smitty. you got distracted or something?" the younger brunette burst into laughter making will's cheeks flush.

"shut up," will mumbled while samy poked his cheek.

"he's just mad i can still beat him with a hurt shoulder."

the three made mindless conversation as they rode into the city. samy caught macklin up on everything happening at mich and a few things on her brothers. macklin caught samy up on things she did and didn't hear from will about the sharks and life in san jose so far. it all sounded like it was going really well which made the girl happy.

will rolled them into a parking spot just outside of the restaurant, "i think he's almost here or is here," macklin checked his phone.

a bright orange range rover rolled into the parking space two down from where they were just as macklin said that. everyone knew it had to be beckett considering the orange matcbed the anaheim colors perfectly. they all got out and sure enough, beckett's tall frame got out of the car.

he smiled widely when he saw them. "hey guys!" the younger boy exclaimed as he locked the car and hurried over to them.

"hey, beck! it's been so long," samy hugged him first which he reciporcated into a tight squeeze.

"it's so good to see you in california. hey, celly, smitty," the other two boys took their turn saying hello.

"your car is awesome, by the way. orange is very fitting," samy pointed to the car.

"oh, thanks. my mom thought it would be fun for me to get it wrapped, so i did. pretty sick isn't it?" everyone nodded in agreement before heading inside to get a table.

the four ended up on the outside patio where macklin was the first to get conversation going and ask about beckett's season so far. the younger boy excitedly explained how much experience he's been gaining and getting to make friends with the older guys on the team. of course, samy asked him about trevor for jack's sake.

"oh, he's super funny and a great mentor. he's got a lot of good tips for all the rookies," beckett smiled.

"i'll make sure to tell jack that, then," samy chuckled.

"what about all of you? the sharks have been really moving up with the recent wins," the ducks player turned the conversation to the other two boys.

"yeah, i mean it's been awesome. we're all definitely improving which i think is really good. get to spend all my time with mack over here," will roughed up his friend's shoulder making the brunette pull away from his grasp.

"totally. i love annoying him. my favorite activity, actually," macklin grinned.

"michigan has always been doing really good this season. do you think you guys are making it to the finals again?" beckett turned the conversation to samy.

"i hope so. we've definitely turned the program around in the last year, so i'm excited to see what else we can do," the girl grinned.

"sorry about your shoulder, by the way. i know that must suck," the younger boy commented and samy just shrugged.

"it's not horrible anymore. i actually beat will in driveway hockey last night so that has to mean i'm doing better," the youngest hughes teased her boyfriend again.

"damn, i mean yeah. what was the score?"

"6-2."

"6-2? smitty, what happened?" beckett had the same reaction as macklin making him and samy laugh again.

"alright, alright, i get it. i suck when my girlfriend does any competitive sport against me," the blonde shook his head, but smiled nonetheless.

the three spent the rest of lunch catching up with one another before deciding to walk around downtown a bit since beckett nor samy had been before. macklin and will took the honors of pointing things out and taking them into the shops they thought were cool.

samy's eye was caught when they made it into a small boutique. she quickly admired all of the jewlery and clothes up on the racks. will watched the girl carefully, a soft smile on his lips as he followed her around the store and let her use him to carry the things she wanted to try on.

"hey, we'll be right back," will called when samy pulled him back into the dressing room. macklin and beckett just exchanged a glance before snickering to themselves and letting the couple be.

will just stood on the outside of the stall though, handing things to samy when she asked for them and rating the things she put on. she came out in a very pretty, short, maroon dress with little flowers as the straps. will's eyes never left her as she did a small spin and he basically eyed her up and down. the color reminded him of boston.

"i really like this, but i don't know when or where i'd wear it," samy said as she looked back at herself in the mirror.

"i could think of a time," will subconsciously licked his lips earning a bright blush from the girl in front of him.

"alright, lover boy. i'm gonna change and then we can keep going," samy chuckled and shut herself back into the stall.

even though there was no occasion, samy decided to buy the red dress. she was at the register quite literally about to tap her card when will quickly slipped in and beat her to it, the payment processing onto his card instead.

"will," the girl looked at him in surprise.

"what?" he grinned.

"you didn't have to pay," samy frowned. him paying for her ticket here was already enough.

"and?"

not wanting to get into it in the store, samy decided to let it go as will grabbed the bag before she could. "thank you," she said as they walked away.

"anything for you," he kissed her cheek and they met back up with beckett and macklin outside.

"wow, you're so whipped," macklin commented when he saw will carrying samy's bag for her. beckett snickered.

"you'll understand when you have a girlfriend," will hummed, not even caring about the teasing anymore.

they stopped by a few more places before deciding to head back. everyone hugged beckett and made promises to see one another again and that beckett would try to see samy when the ducks came to detroit in a few weeks.

for november, it was surprisingly hot in san jose, so they rolled the windows down as soon as they were back in the car. will let samy control the aux, so she scrolled through her spotify looking for the right playlist as will got back onto the road to home.

one her favorites came up first which happened to be tate mcae's nwest song, two hands. the beat quickly brought the mood up and it felt perfect with the windows down. she started singing the lyrics, sticking her hand out to catch the breeze, imagining she was in the music video.

macklin and will nodded along also big fans of tate's music. samy's hair blew everywhere from the wind and she didn't see the way will's gaze kept flicking to her as she sang along. one of his guilty pleasures was listenng to tate mcrae's songs and it was the cherry on top listening to it with his girlfriend right beside him who loved her music just as much.

will thought of the lyrics, specifically the way samy sang them, especially when tate sang "i want them all to see, you look good on top of me." the blonde's mind ran a bit wild and he tried keeping his thoughts under control knowing this wasn't the time to be thinking of that.

but boy, it was hard not to and will wondered if samy was having the same thoughts.

they dropped macklin back off and will quite literally sped back to the house, samy a bit oblivious to the thoughts running through her boyfriend's head.

much to will's luck, the house was empty when they got in. he remembered that jagger had a basketball game and the older boys were still at practice, so he was gonna use all the time he had and pulled samy to the stairs.

"what's up with you?" samy laughed as she followed the hockey player into his room, lifting an eyebrow when he shut and locked the door behind them.

"i really wanna kiss you," the boy mumbled and then closed the space between them without letting samy respond.

he held her face in her hands as she let him kiss her. it was quick but passionate as the two melted into one another. samy felt will's eagerness as he slipped his tongue into her mouth and sucked her bottom lip into his.

"you're so beautiful," will mumbled between kissing and pulling back an inch for air.

"not that i'm complaining, but what's sparked this?" samy hummed as she ran her finger dow his sharp jaw.

"something about that song and you singing it had my head spinning," will confessed. the brunette smirked, a bit surprised to hear this.

"oh really?"

"figured we could test it out, you know?"

———SMUT STARTS HERE———

a wide smile spread across both of their faces as they reconnect their lips. will pushed samy back onto the bed where she laid down and he hovered above her. he remembered her shoulder, so he forced himself to slow down a bit so he wouldn't hurt her. he leaned on her good side as they made out.

samy's hands tangled into will's curls and a soft moan left his lips into hers. they really took this moment in, feeling every part of each other pushing against one another. will's hands curved around samy's hips as he worked her hips againsy his own, pressing his hardening dick against her thigh.

"shit, baby," the blonde moaned out. he was really trying to take his time knowing he didn't wanna hurt the girl even worse, but it was hard when his brain was so wired up at the moment.

samy moaned at the feeling of will's excitement agains her leg. one of her hands fell down to his chest again where she tugged at his shirt as indication that she wanted it off. the boy obliged, sitting up to peel the material off and exposing his very toned chest to her.

"every time i'm wowed by you," samy hummed as she admired will's six pack and toned muscles across his upper half.

"i'm flattered," he grinned, reconnecting their lips.

he helped samy get her own shirt off which revealed the pretty bralette underneath. will had such a bad thing for her tits as he immediately dipped his head down and started sucking the plump flesh. the girl giggled, wrapping her fingers into his curls again to give occasional tugs.

it was a really good thing samy wasn't playing at the moment so will could leave his hickeys or love bites he liked to call them now.

"shit, baby," the girl moaned when will brought his lips to her nipple. he prided himself in her reaction and sucked harder while going and back and forth between the two.

samy began arching her back off the bed into will as he hit all the right places and her skin became littered with dark bruises that only he would know were there.

that thought had will's cock twitching in the restrictive material of his shorts and a groan leaving his lips at the feeling of samy's bare tits pressing against his chest.

"fuck, babe," he muttered, pulling his lips away.

will started moving down. he placed little kisses all the way down samy's stomach until he reached her shorts. he smirked when he saw the look of desperation on her face for him to take them off.

"want these off?" he wondered and the girl nodded.

"please."

will pulled them down her legs where that pink fucking thong that drove the boy crazy hid underneath. his mouth watered at the sight, getting flashbacks to august. "god, i love this fucking thing," he grumbled, hooking his fingers around the band and pulling to make a snap against her skin.

"wore it just for you," a smirk graced her lips making will shake his head.

"i fucking love you," will leaned down to press little kisses around her hip bone that eventually turned into him sucking hickeys because these were the places no one would ever see but him and the thought drove the boy more crazy.

the little whimpers escpaing samy's lips was doing nothing to help the problem in will's pants that he tried to desperately ignore. he wanted to focus on samy and her pleasure, trying to forget about his own for now.

"fuck, you're dripping," will said when he pressed his fingers against the thin, very wet material of her thong.

"you're not the only one with eager thoughts," samy smiled lazily as she watched her boyfriend push her the material to the side so he could slide his fingers against her.

she threw her head back into the pillow when he started pushing them into her warm heat.

"fuck, will," a moan escaped her lips.

"god, you're so wet, baby. fuck," will slid two fingers in, slowly pumping in and out and in and out to get samy ready for the real thing.

he figured he needed to get her really ready because they didn't do anything when he visited michigan considering she just had surgery. this time was a completely different story though and it was safe to say they were both craving this.

"oh my god, will. faster, please," samy begged a little.

will pumped faster before dipping his head down and replacing his fingers with his tongue. the sensation made the girl jump a little, not expecting his tongue. the surprise was quickly replaced with immense pleasure though as will worked his mouth around.

"s-shit, will. oh my god," she grabbed his curls and tugged, basically using him to move him where she wanted.

considering will didn't do this a lot, he was pretty fucking good at it. he took samy's moans as a sign that he was doing it right and let her control him with tugs on his curls. she pushed her hips further against the boy's tongue, her orgasm close.

"fuck, will. i'm gonna cum," she cried.

"cum for me, baby," will encouraged, sucking harder.

the feeling sent the soccer player over the edge. she released right on will's lips and tongue, tugging his hair hard. the blonde smiled, licking his lips as he sat back up.

"did so good for me, baby," the blonde praised, leaning down to place a gentle kiss to her lips. she flushed, slowly coming down from her high.

will leaned himself against her again and samy felt how hard he was now, still straining through the tight material of his shorts. his hips jerked forward when samy rubbed herself up against him.

"s-shit. i'm so hard for you," will moaned into her mouth.

"better do something about that, huh?"

the hockey player sat back on his heels as he unzipped his shorts, puling them and his underwear down in one go. his cock sprang up, the tip red and leaking some precum already. samy's mouth watered seeing her boyfriend's thick, throbbing cock before her.

"f-fuck," the blonde muttered as he pumped himself a few times. he leaned forward to fish out a condom from his nightstand, quickly breaking the wrapper and rolling it on.

"need to be inside you," he mumbled, eyes back on his girlfriend.

"want you to fuck me, will," samy begged a bit also eager for him to put it in.

will hovered over her again, lining himself up with her entrance. he slowly pushed in, ducking his head into the crook of her neck. they both moaned out at the first contact. the urge to cum already so strong.

"oh fuck, baby. you feel so good," will groaned, slowly rocking himself in and fighting all of his urges to just poud into her. he needed to be slow for her sake and not hurting her.

"yeah, baby. fuck, you're so big," samy moaned into his ear, her fingers scratching up his back as she let the pleasure overtake the slight pain since they hadn't done this in so long.

her walls sucked him in and he paused when he bottomed out to give the brunette a second to catch her breath. he kissed her lips, struggling to hold onto his self-control and not pound his hips.

"tell me i can move," the way she squeezed around him had his urge to cum slip fast.

"yes, move, please," samy nodded, so he started rocking his hips back and forth in a steady rhythm.

they moaned out as the pace continued building and will littered more kisses across her chest and lips. her tits pressed against his own chest again and will moaned at the feeling of her nipples rocking and bouncing against his skin with each trust.

"fuck, baby. oh—you feel so good—fuck," he wasn't gonna last. "you're squeezing me so good, practically sucking me in," the boy continued.

"feels so good, baby. shit. keep doing that," samy praised him as well, her grip getting harder on his biceps.

will was rocking his hips at a strong pace that moved the bed along with them. he was so glad no one was home right now or else he'd never be able to show his face ever again.

"mm, fuck yeah. oh, fuck yeah. you're gonna make me cum," will blabbered, the only thought in his mind was the one lyric and how he was quite literally on top of samy.

"cum for me will. wanna cum with you," samy got out.

little beads of sweat began building between their bodies and will directed his gaze to where he disappeared in and out of her. the way she sucked him so tight was gonna send the boy over the edge as his self-control slipped away.

"fuck. fuck. i'm gonna cum..i-i'm gonna fucking cum. please say you're close," the blonde cried, his hips now practically pounding into her even though he told himself to take it easy.

"i'm so close, baby. so close."

he felt her clenching around his length which meant she was about to cum. will thrusted a bit harder, hoping to push her over the edge for a second time. she buried her head into the pillow, her chest risng again to push against will's. he groaned, mesmerized with the way her tits bounced back and forth with each snap of his hips.

the sensation sent samy over the edge. she moaned loudly, releasing around will's throbbing cock that had been waiting for her to go first. the tight clench and squeeze sent the blonde over the edge too. he snapped his hips one last time into her, releasing into the condom with a moan.

"ah, fuckkk baby. jesus christ. fhhuck," the blonde's hips twitched, his sweaty body collapsing onto hers as he spilled all of his cum into the condom.

samy dragged her hand through his curls, grinning while peppering kisses across his face. "so good, will. did so good."

"fucking love you so much. we should put that song on more often," will smirked, placing his own soft kisses across her face.

he slowly pulled out, pealing the condom off and running it to the bathroom. he came back with a towel to clean up the rest of their mess. samy watched lovingly as her boyfriend cleaned her up before snuggling into her side for a moment.

"too bad i can't leave any bites on you," samy hummed when she saw how bare will's neck and chest looked compared to hers. they didn't want to risk fans seeing the marks during the season.

"you still can lower than my shoulders," the blonde smirked.

the brunette hated not returning the favor, so she pushed will onto his back and dipped her head below her shoulders which definitely resulted in will getting hard again and a second round.

———SMUT ENDS HERE———

on the last night samy was there, will planned a fancy date night at one of the restaurants downtown. she wore the dress she just bought and it was a miracle they even left the house because when will saw her come out of the bathroom, let's just say his mind ran wild again.

the atmosphere was definitely very high end and it felt like they were amongst the rich people who lived in the area on a saturday night out.

"i'm glad you came out," will grinned.

"thanks for buying my ticket again. i really appreciate it," samy grinned back.

"there's a lot more where that came from," the girl rolled her eyes a bit at his words despite the smile still on her lips.

"i'd have you out here every weekend if i could, you know that," will swirled some of his drink around in the glass, a mix between a smile and smirk on his features.

"yeah, i know. i wish. i'll probably see you soon though. when are you guys playing detroit?"

"in a few weeks i think," the hockey player hummed, the schedule not on the top of his head.

"so you'll see me then and maybe by then i'll be able to actually play," the girl scoffed a bit, but will just shook his head.

"i know it sucks, but you've been doing really good. you're gonna be back on the field in no time," he grabbed her hand from across the table. the gesture made her blush.

"i know, i know. i guess i have to think of new hobbies or something," they shared a laugh.

after dinner, they walked around downtown some more just trying to take everything in and spend every second they could together before samy's flight back home tomrorow. granted, will was still going crazy over the maroon dress hugging all the right places on his girlfriend's body, especially because it was so boston college colors, so their walk around downtown didn't last for long.

will was impatient and quite literally eager to have his girlfriend one more time because she needed to leave. his lips were on hers when they made it into the parking garage and he was pushing her against the car.

he knew the house would be full when they got back, so will did the one thing he promised macklin he'd never do—have sex in his car.

it was the best sex will ever had in the car though.

—

they got to the airport close to 6 in the morning, even earlier than when morning practice started. samy's flight was at 9 though and she wanted to be there early, so will got himself up to drive her and macklin tagged along to say goodbye too.

the drop off line gave the three deja-vu as will parked to the side and got out to help with the luggage. macklin yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eye as he got out too.

the two boys stood in front of the entrance where samy was about to disappear into.

"alright, i'll go first since smitty will take decades to let you go," macklin took the lead by opening his arms. "it was good seeing you, hughesy. we'll see you super soon."

"it was soo good seeing you, mack. keep will in line for me, yeah?" the girl joked a bit, eyeing the blonde behind them who playfully rolled his eyes.

"obviously, i will," they laughed and then macklin pulled away.

samy's gaze fell to will's sad one. she opened his arms for him where he buried his face into the crook of her neck, squeezing her tightly. "i'm gonna miss you so much."

"me too, but you'll be michigan in just a few weeks," she tried looking on the positives for them or else will would just make it really sad.

"i know, but it seems so far away," the blonde frowned.

"it'll go fast, i promise. i love you," the youngest hughes pulled back to see will's pretty face. he smiled, breathing her in one last time.

"i love you, too baby. get back safe. text me when you land," he hummed and she nodded.

they hugged one last time before samy pulled back because if she didn't they'd never let go of each other. she waved to the boys before heading inside. they waved back, will blowing her kisses until they couldn't see her anymore and some car behind them honked to get moving.

"fuck off," will said as him and macklin climbed back in.

they were basically half-asleep still, so much that when the brunette got back into the passenger seat, he didn't realize how pushed back it was so he basically fell onto his back when he got in. it caught both of them off guard.

"what the fuck happened to this seat," macklin grumbled as he fixed it so it was more upright and not as pushed back.

the realization hit him faster than will remembered the reasoning and then macklin's jaw dropped open.

"HOLY SHIT! you fucked in here! oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," the younger brunette began freaking out and will internally face palmed.

"dude, chill. chill. i promise i cleaned everything," will tried calming his friend down.

"dude, i can't believe this. oh my god, that's fucking disgusting. you said you'd never fuck in here!" the boy exclaimed.

"we had no other options! i swear it's clean," will defended himself. macklin didn't have anything else to say except shaming his head and the car behind them honked it's horn again.

will quickly drove out of the line, suddenly embarrassed that he forgot to fix the seat. he also worried macklin actually was mad until the brunette asked:

"so on a scale of 1-10 how good was it?"

there it was. it wasn't even 7 in the morning yet.

"dude," will shook his head.

"what? i feel like i deserve to know after you betrayed me like that."

"it was actually really fucking good. 10 for sure," will gave in with his answer.

"you know what? hell yeah. high five me for that one," macklin held his hand up. the blonde smacked it, a content smile on his lips now.

"now drive fast so i can get out of this car and go back to bed."

[katatty]

Shifting Priorities

Thank you for all the nice comments yesterday! Some really helpful perspectives that gave me a lot of ideas on how I can tackle my simmer's block :)

Mostly, I think I need to trim down the number of neighbourhoods I consider "active" and the amount of projects I am doing in general. I have a hard time letting go of neighbourhoods, especially if I am still somewhat invested in them! But I also need to face the fact that I only have so much free time, and do not want playing the sims to be the sole thing I do with that free time XD

For some neighbourhoods I will also be trying out a more stripped-down approach to blogging, similar to what I've been doing with Driftwood. It makes me a little sad because I like my sims to feel fleshed out as characters and giving them voices is a big part of that! But maybe I can save the prose/dialogue for times when it is particularly needed, rather than including it as a default.

Finally, I am going to prioritise based on what I actually have the most fun with, rather than letting popularity drive my decisions!! Some neighbourhoods I feel sad about potentially retiring because I know people enjoy them, or I feel bad admitting I am never going to finish projects people were excited for, but I have to remember simming is something I do for myself, not for popularity or for other people.

So, plans for my neighbourhoods:

Pleasantview Plus - will continue in its current form for the most part, but holdholds I found less inspiring will just get short summaries rather than extensive documentation. This hood is waaaaaaay too big and I think not that many people follow it all that closely, but it's also my one true love and I would like to start prioritising it again rather than it always being on the backburner

Uberhood Challenge (YouTube Series) - This is a short-term series, and will continue as planned until I finish the challenge, which I'm over halfway through :)

Hollyhead - I hate to say it because I know a lot of people love it, but I feel like I have sorta outgrown this neighbourhood? Some simmers like their settings to be an escape from the real world, and when I made Hollyhead I think it was what I needed too, but these days I find how upbeat & wholesome it is a bit, idk, constraining?? I crave drama and conflict in my stories!! I also have kinda lost interest in the BACC rules and have started to find it more book-keeping and hassle for what I get out of it... Whenever I do open the neighbourhood I still really enjoy actually playing it, and I love the characters so much, but I just haven't found the events interesting enough to want to write about. I think this neighbourhood will not be retired completely (yet), but I will move towards writing much shorter updates in the form of newspaper articles and see if that helps. If by the end of this season I still feel ehhh about it, I might formally end it <3

Driftwood - no complaints about this hood, I'll probably continue with the current style of documenting major events & new builds only

Spruceburg (YouTube series) - I would like to do another season of this next year, after I finish the uberhood challenge! But I will probably go for a schedule of like, one season of series per year, rather than posting consistantly. I enjoy YouTube a lot, but its a lot of work too and I think has majorly taken away from my blogging time this year, which I am mourning now lol!!

The Fiero Legacy - it is probably time to throw in the towel with this and admit I just don't enjoy playing legacy style or with story progression that much! I always enjoy the period where the heir is dating but once they settle down and have kids it becomes a chore and a grind, plus with story progression's time system I always feel rushed and like I can't take a sim out of the house for an outing without potentially missing important milestones - the urban setting feels so wasted when its all family gameplay, haha. Hallie should be at the club!! It was an interesting experiment and a nice change of pace, but idk if I really see myself returning to it. I love the sims themselves and the setting, but whenever I actually load up the neighbourhood I just feel kinda stressed and overwhelmed :(

As for my building projects like Belladonna Cove, perhaps at some point I will get really inspired and return to them but for now they are on indefinite break. I remember saying a few time in the past that I didn't really feel much need to make over Pleasantview and Strangetown because if I wanted nice makoevers I would use frottanas, and tbh I feel the same way about Belladonna Cove - if I was playing it I would just use plumbtales makeovers XD With my past neighbourhood makeovers I was really inspired to make them because there wasn't anything out there that was exactly what I wanted but, well, there's loooooads of nice Belladonna cove makeovers these days so I just don't feel much drive to make my own version I guess?? I think I also have lost interest in building a little becasue I am no longer into super heavily decorated lots - I prefer lighter lots that won't cause lag lol! So yeah, I am probably not retiring from building forever but its no longer a priority for me :)

[fashionteahouse]

Can I get a she fell first he fell harder where reader always had a crush on embry all throughout high school and always asked him out but he always rejected her nicely until she gave up then they meet again but she’s over him so he has to work extra hard to get her attention smut included???

ofc you can ! XD hope you enjoy :)

coming back - embry x reader

Barely being able to maintain eye contact, the floor and his shirt covered chest was more interesting. You felt fluttery and a fiery blush stained your cheeks.

“You dropped this.” he tells you. He held out a mitten that you dropped and you take it back.

“Thanks.” you say to him with a smile. He was so kind and warm. That’s why it was so addicting to be in his presence. You watch starry eyed as he walked away.

With his body now out of your view, your eyes then flicker to a paper hung up on the hallway wall.

You weren’t going to go. But, you had a newfound form of hope.

The next morning, you woke up earlier than your usual wake up time.

You made sure to make sure you looked extra nice.

You found him at his locker, he was alone. He was taking his jacket off to put it in there. You tap his shoulder as you walked up behind him.

He turns around and says hi, remembering the interaction from yesterday. He displayed a kind smile. Your heart skips a beat as you see that what he’s wearing looks great on him.

“I just um… wanted to know if you were going to Homecoming?” you say, you tried to hide the fact that you were nervous.

“Mm…I don’t think so. Are you?” he asks after thinking of the idea of going to a school dance.

“Yeah. I mean..I don’t know..But, um we could like..Go together?” you offer. There, you threw it out there.

A soft smile, “Oh. I think I’m going to sit this one out. But, thanks for asking though.” he says and off he goes to where his friends were at.

You sigh in defeat.

You didn’t go as well. You didn’t want to see people at your school dressed up for a dance and Embry wasn’t there. You still had hope.

You still made sure to speak to him when you did see him. He kept it brief.

One day in science class, it was a lab day. The teacher wanted the students to do a gravity experiment with dropping small balls and calculate how long it took for the small ball to drop to the ground.

The thing was, she wanted everyone to do it in the hallway since there was a balcony that showed the first floor of the school.

You were partnered up and you ran down the steps to retrieve the ball from the first floor. Your partner wrote down the time as they paused the stop watch.

Scooping the ball into your hand, you look over and see Embry walking.

“Hey.” you say with a smile.

“Hi.” he says back. He kept walking. You were a bit sad that he wasn’t curious about what you were doing, or showing interest that he wanted to talk more.

You did your best. Wearing what looked good, putting effort into your appearance. You stared at him as he would walk past. One time, he did look, but he just kept walking.

You heard his friends, wishing him a happy birthday. You smile as you look at the date, you made sure to keep note of the day’s date.

When he was in line at lunch, luckily his friends didn’t join him yet.

“Hey, birthday boy.” you say, he turns to see you and he chuckles lightly.

“Hey.”

“Have any plans?”

“Uh..Not really. Most of my friends have work. We’re going to celebrate it on the weekend.” he answers.

“Well..I could take you out. My treat.” you say.

He takes a look, you’re glad that you look nice today, the smile you gave him showed a lot of interest and you watched his eyes as he made a decision.

“That’s okay. I will just chill at home. Thanks for asking though.” he says with a polite smile and carries his tray away.

Your shoulder slump forward due to defeat. Even though luck was not on your side, you still had an ounce of hope.

You however, found yourself getting a tad bit jealous when he would laugh or talk to a girl that wasn’t you.

You wanted to know how it felt to have all of his attention.

You still cling onto your hopes when it’s time for prom. Your friends actually had dates and you wanted to go for the last bit of experience.

Hearing the prom date over the intercom during morning announcements, an idea pops into your head.

Smoothly walking to where he was, he took a quick drink out of the water fountain.

He smiled a bit when he seen you, your heart leaped with hope and joy. You smile back and ask him how his day is going, you were going to try the smooth approach.

“It’s going okay. How’s yours?” he asks. You seeped into the conversation, “Eh, it’s alright.” He’s walking leisurely and you’re walking side by side with him.

“Are you going to prom?” he asks you. You almost felt like you were dreaming, you nod with enthusiasm.

“Are you?” you ask. You watch as he thinks for a bit.

“Yeah. Are you going with someone?” he asks you.

You shake your head.

“Are you?” you ask and start to smile. He nods a bit, “Yeah. I got asked.” he laughs a bit.

“Oh…” you say and your entire expression is crestfallen.

“We’re going as friends but, still. Hey, at least I will see you there.” he says and before you realized it, you were outside of his classroom.

“Yeah. See you there.” you say sadly and watch him walk in the classroom and greet a friend of his.

You had to walk the walk of shame to your own classroom.

At prom, you tried to have a good time. Your friends even abandoned their own dates for a moment to include you. Your eyes kept looking over the girl that won Embry’s yes.

She danced with him, she laughed with him, and she even complimented your dress when you got something to drink. You couldn’t even dislike her even if you wanted to.

Life after high school had been easy on you. Studying for a career path that you have been passionate about, made you have passion for life for the future.

Coming back home for the holidays, you were happy to see your old friends on Christmas break.

The day before Christmas Eve, you stopped at a store to buy some gift wrapping paper. That’s when you saw him. You didn’t get the same fluttery feelings you had and to be honest, he crossed your mind but not in a romantic way. You would laugh lightly to yourself how intense you felt about the hopeful teenage romance. You were glad that he had a kind nature.

He was the one that spoke to you first.

“You’re back.” he says with a smile. He was in front of you in line and he turned around.

“Yeah. How are you?” you say politely.

“I’m good. And you?”

“Great.” you say.

“How long are you here for?” he asks you.

“Just until after New Years.” you just say and plan to leave it at that.

“Cool. We get to see each other often until you leave, then.” he says.

You give him a tight lipped smile and nod a bit.

He noticed your reservedness and another cashier opened their register and says she can take the next person in line in her line.

“See ya.” you just say and walk to the new cashier.

Embry was going to say something before you were out of your sight but you moved too fast, making his words get caught in your throat.

On Christmas Eve, you all exchanged gifts, each of you having a secret Santa.

It was nice and warm and you all talked about the good old days of high school.

Your friends knew you weren’t Embry-crazy anymore, you barely brought him up.

On a spur of the moment, you all go to the favorite coffee shop that you all loved. You got the hot chocolate and it tasted better than you imagined it would.

“I so miss this.” you say as you chew on the hot and semi-melted marshmallows.

Hums of agreement follows as they drink their own drinks.

You hear a bell and you look up and see that it’s Embry. You didn’t know he enjoyed this place too. You shrug and continue to drink your drink and fall into the table’s conversation.

“Y/N. Crazy we run into each other again.” he says with a smile. You lick the top of your lip a bit as the speck of whipped cream was resting there and you nod.

“I know right.” you say and continue your sip. Silence was met for a moment before your friend says that they’re done and if you guys were joining them in going back to the car. You all agree and you rise up and put your coat back on.

As your friends are deep in their chatter, he comes close to you and says to you in a hushed tone, “You have any plans for tomorrow?”

“Um..” you think for a moment, you were going to stop past your family’s home, but other than that, you were going to go back to your friend’s to spend the remainder of the day with them.

“Just celebrating with them and my family but, it was nice seeing you, though. I’ll see you around.” you say and walk out of the door with your friends.

He didn’t know how he could have messed it up. You weren’t the awkward teenager that he would see around school. The conversation was different.

You even looked different. You’ve grown into the woman that looked comfortable in their skin.

“Guys we should see the Christmas lights in the city!” your friend says as you all walk to the car.

“In the cold? No way.” you say, your teeth chattering at the light snow that started to fall.

“Come on. We don’t have to stay long.” they plead. You agree. They’re excited.

Christmas morning, you seen your family. Exchanged gifts, ate a bit of the dinner that was cooked and went on your way.

Walking through the city, your hands was trying to loosen the mittens so you can stick your hands in them. It wasn’t snowing when you left out, but it was starting to fall more gradually.

Dropping the mitten, you sigh a bit and lean down to get it, but someone was faster than you. Looking up to thank the person, you seen that it’s Embry.

“You following me or something?” you ask but you were teasing him.

His face turned into a look of horror, “N-No. Not at all!” he says.

Laughing a bit at his panicked state, “I was kidding.” you just say and you take the mitten from him, “Oh, and thanks.” you say and you walk to catch up with your friends.

“Wait.” you hear him say. You slow down your pace, he walks beside you.

“Yeah?” you ask as the mittens were now on your hands and you were stuffing your hands in your coat pocket.

“You’re seeing the lights right?” he asks.

“Yeah. Are you?”

“Maybe.”

“Oh.” you just say and continue to walk.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing them with you.” he says.

“Oh. Cool.” you say, your face grimaced a bit from the cold wind that blew in your face.

He walked with you, you all saw the Christmas lights. You and your friends took pictures. You only commented back when he would comment about the sight.

Leaving, he touched your coat covered arm, “You’re leaving already?”

“Yeah. See ya.” you say with a polite smile and wave and go about your way.

Embry’s face was crestfallen, but you didn’t see it. Your back was facing him and you and your friends talked about the lights you all saw.

You offer to go to the liquor store to grab drinks for the upcoming New Year’s eve party.

You placed the heavy bottle in your basket and seen Embry come in. This time, with a friend of his. They nod to each other as you both go in different directions.

You go to wait in line.

You felt a tap. You turn around.

“Hey.” he says. You just nod in greeting. You turn back around.

“What kind of drinks did you get?” he asked.

You show him the labels of each bottle.

“You have plans for New Years?” he asks.

“Sorta. I’m going to a party.”

“Who’s party?”

“You don’t know them.” you say. It was true.

“That’s funny. I’m having a party.”

“Oh yeah? Well, have fun.” you say as you place the bottles on the checkout belt. You were up next and the person in front of you were already handing the cashier their money.

“You should come.” he says.

“And ditch my friends?”

“Bring your friends.”

“Mm. I’ll pass. But thanks anyway.” you say.

“Please?” he asks. You actually give it some thought. “Oh what the hell.” you thought.

You fully turn to face him.

“I don’t know your friends. I barely know you, I just know you from the small interactions we had in school.”

“Get to know me then.” he says.

“Embry’s party?” your friend asks again. You nod.

“Uh oh. Here we go.” they laugh as they tease you.

“It’s not like that. I’m just going to show my face and we can leave.” you say and finish straightening out your outfit.

“Sure.” they say with a smirk and you nudge them to get them to be quiet. They just laugh instead.

You enter his home, it was a full house. The music vibrated the floor and you cross your arms as you scope the scenery.

A friend of yours scope out a guy they can talk to. You groan at the fact that they leave you to make their move.

You hear someone call your name.

“Hey.” you say.

“You made it!” he says with a smile.

“Uh huh.” you say as you take a look around. If it was his place, it wasn’t bad. People dancing and having fun with each other.

“Wanna dance?” he asks.

“Uh..Nah.” you say politely and move around him. He’s following you.

“Why not?” he asks, not in a pushy way, but in genuine curiosity. You shrug.

“I can’t dance.”

“Everyone can dance.” he says.

“Not true.” you say.

“Want me to show you?” he asks.

“Nah.” you say and ask, “What do you have to drink?”

“Anything you want.” he says. You chuckle.

“Seriously.”

“I am serious.” he says.

You walk away, while chuckling and shaking your head a bit in a friendly manner.

You had a drink in your hand as your friend was wrapped around a guy, them two explaining something that they had in common. It was evident they’ve been drinking, the loud passionate talking made you zone out a bit.

“You wouldn’t be bored if you danced with me.” he says and stands next to you on the wall.

“One dance. That’s it. You’re not making a fool of me.” you say in humorous fashion.

“Never.” he says.

You didn’t think you could be totally wrong. This moment, was true evidence that you had gotten a whiplash of emotions.

Everything that you felt like had been away, came slowly swimming.

An old blush came on your cheeks as Embry’s hands eventually pulled you close and moved your body with his to the music.

You didn’t want the song to be over. But, you already knew better. Stepping back with a small smile, you say, “I’m going to find my friends.”

You walk away before he could speak out, the transition of the next song was being blasted.

They were dancing with people they had gotten to know. Sighing a bit, you tried to socialize, seeing who else you could buddy up with.

They all just wanted to drink or take a shot. You didn’t want to get shit faced.

“Who are you going to kiss on the countdown?” he asks you as he stood close to you. Clearly feeling comfortable with the close distance since you two have danced.

“A drink.”

“That’s a waste.”

“What’s a waste?” you question and you fully face him and he’s wearing a handsome smile. You didn’t even realize how hard your heart was thumping until the silence fell into the air as he stared at your lips with hooded eyes.

You shake your head a bit as you felt like you were in a daze.

Sweaty bodies moved past you and you were back to the ugly reality.

“Are you leaving tomorrow?” he asks with a hint of sadness.

You shake your head, “The day after tomorrow.” He nods and keep note in his head.

“I want to see you before you leave.” he says.

“Why?” you whisper.

“I feel like I missed out on so much.” he whispers back.

Before you could respond, some shouts out, “Oh my god! Turn down the music!” The music is staring to turn down and Embry grabs your hand before you could process it.

He pulls you as the countdown from 20 seconds started to ring out.

Embry turns and counts down, “10…”

You catch on finally on, “5…”

By 3, you both are smiling and yelling with the rest of the room and shout, “Happy New Years!”

Cheering emerged and everyone held each other’s faces as they were pressed into each other. Laughing a bit, you see your friends occupied and you felt your chin being moved over and you were watching Embry’s face that was now in your view.

Inches turned into centimeters and before you both knew it, you shared your lips with Embry. You let him taste yours because he let you taste his.

The burning of your cheeks didn’t cool down when you guided some of your drunk friends in the car. You gave him your number and he did call.

He asks to see you. You go. After telling you his address, you knock on the hard wooden front door.

He opens it and looks happy to see you.

Your hands held up the wrapped covered gift.

You look to him as you both sat on his sofa.

“Open it.” he says.

You tear open the paper, your fingers slightly shaking.

You gasp a bit as you slightly smile.

It was a nicely sized stuffed animal that held a heart. It was wrapped good to where you wouldn’t have guessed. You lean over and give him a hug. He gladly returns it.

“I’m sorry, if I would’ve known you gotten me something, I would’ve got you something too.” you say as you look at the stuffed animal in your lap with appreciation.

“It’s alright.” he says and puts one arm behind you on the edge on the couch, “I have my gift here already.”

You look at him in confusion.

“Can we kiss again?” he asks. You look away and down at the gift he had gave you.

You shake your head a bit as you think and say, “If you would’ve asked me like two years ago, I would’ve hounded you.” you admit.

“I didn’t truly see what was in front of me.” he says.

“What changed? Why now and not then?” you ask.

He shifts to face you more on the couch, “I didn’t know what I want then. I know what I want now and it’s you.”

You just look at him. There was no hint of jokes, no hint of regret and most of all, no hint of shame.

“I wanted to let you know before you leave again.” he says. You nod in understanding.

“I don’t know.” you say. You felt confused.

“I’m sorry.” he says.

“It’s fine.” you say while smiling, “Where’d you get this?”

He tells you. He also told you how you were trapped in his mind as he was getting it.

“I wish we spent Christmas together.” he admits.

“That would’ve been nice..I suppose.” you say and look to him.

You lean and press a kiss of his cheek, you linger your lips there for a bit before pulling back.

He does the same, you huff out a nervous chuckle. He’s still close, he does it smoothly, placing his lips to yours as you watch him. You slowly close your eyes as you relish the feeling.

That what you two did. You both caught up with each other. Letting your lips show how much you both missed each other.

Your hand accidentally slipped under his shirt and you sighed before pulling back.

A sensual snack sounded off and he slowly opened his eyes and blinked at you.

“Im sorry.” you whisper.

“Do it again.” he says lowly and leans forward again. You let him take a hold of your mouth again, occupying your tongue with his.

He helped placed your hands back to his chest, under his shirt. You jumped slightly, from shock, when his lips leave open mouth kisses on your neck.

You small breathy noise escape from your slightly parted lips as your eyes closed at the tingling feeling that was now traveling to your collarbone.

His hands graced the bare skin that came from your slightly risen shirt. He graced a quick swipe of his thumb across your cheek as he then slowly rises your shirt.

Shirtless, you still felt warm. You sat in his lap as he cups your breasts as your back was pressed to his chest.

Your hips was grinding on the bulge that sat stiffly in between your legs.

“I want you.” he whispers. A kiss is heard as you felt the wet kiss on your neck. His hand snakes in front of you and circled his fingers on the sensitive covered nub. You wish he would take your panties off but he instead had you crying out. Crying out at what his fingers were doing. They were feeling how wet you were from just his fingers.

His fingers moved a part of your pantries to the side and rubbed his bare skin with yours. You arched your back and lean against him, your hips moving to make sure you feel every inch of his veiny flesh. Your center was making his flesh glossy as he stuck his tip in you, just a little at a time.

You wince. You squirm to get yourself comfortable as he holds himself to enter you.

You both move into his bedroom.

You both had gotten to know each other’s bodies well. You clutch to his back as his hips movements are rocking you painfully slow. You roll your eyes in ecstasy as you whine for him. He grunts in response and also keeps telling you, “I want you.”

[trivialbob]

The other day while we were running errands Sheila noticed an Eagles Lodge. I've driven by it many times yet never saw it tucked behind a large parking lot.

We like dive bars. Bonus points when they have modest food prices and meat raffles (as this place has on Tuesdays and Saturdays). We stopped in yesterday evening and weren't disappointed. Happy hour for members covers a generous time slot: weekdays, 11 AM to 7 PM. We aren't members but the regular prices for beer were close enough to those member prices that I left with a smile on my face and money in my pocket.

Nearly everyone appeared to be a regular. However we didn't feel like outsiders. A few of the women were bar characters. Their scratchy voices (heavily peppered with four-letter words) made Marge Simpson's sisters sound as mellifluous as Celine Dion. Smoking isn't allowed in bars and restaurants, but you can still enjoy some sounds associated with it.

We won one of the raffles, netting us two large, frozen meatloaves. A woman sitting next to me had an electronic bingo tablet (one of those networked games where people from all over are playing). She won $1500 making her very happy. Oh yeah? Well I have two meatloaves, lady!

Sheila and I ordered tacos (two for $4) and beer served in frozen pint glasses. I love the small bits of ice that float on top of the suds. We hung out for a bit, talking with a bartender and the bingo winner. We didn't stay for the traditional bingo session that was going to start at 6:30 PM. I plan to go back soon and try one of the burgers.

The vending machine prices were low. I'm sure a candy bar at my local grocery store costs more than a buck.

A newspaper is available in the lobby. It's free, unlike anything else related to gambling.

[sisaloofafump]

Daily Diana #9

I am going issue by issue through Wonder Woman (1987—) and drawing my favourite outfits on a very vague daily schedule. This was issue 9, the start of a new arc, and with a lovely little raccoon.

Masterlist || Previous || Next

The outfit & raccoon in context:

[bitchfitch]

does anyone have tips/advice for someone who's like. Neutral on dogs but needs a service dog? I don't dislike them, I'm definitely more of a cat or fish person, but I've never had a dog that weighed more than 15lbs and he was more my parents dog than anything else and so I'm. A bit out of my depth when it comes to evaluating breeders and puppies and trainers and what to get and what to not get etc etc etc

(I'm specifically looking for a mobility and cardiac alert dog, so a Bernese Mountain Dog, Newfoundland (the ideal tbh), saint bernard etc)

[maraschinotopped]

undertale yellow. clutches head in anguish.

[lunarharp]

some illustrations/vibes from my uhh 29k memory trauma/disability focus orufrey fic, into the deep end.

[sucrose-soymilk]

hadn’t really regressed in a While and i didn’t realize how much i missed/dareisay needed it until i had the free time and ability to do so over the last few days and i have to say. i’m feeling a bit better

[sprinklethetangerine]

I think this is a pretty reasonable situation to cry in, right?

[fortune-maiden]

After the wasted hour of my life that was watching Kamen Rider Geats yesterday, I started Ryuki this morning

They really don’t make Riders like this anymore

[tkbrokkoli]

:O

[phagodyke]

woke up feeling ruffff but took my meds and went back to bed for a while n I feel a bit better